Master of Puppets
by Three-Eyed Squirrels
Summary: SC. When Sarasael Inari comes to Narnia, the only thing she wants is to find her way home. When she learns that it is no longer an option, she does all she can to reshape the world the way she wants, and the world remembers the Lady of the Green Kirtle.
1. Chapter 1

((I started this story my senior year of high school, roughly a month after the first Narnia movie came out. It was supposed to be a novella, about the size of Franz Kafka's "Metamorphosis." It ended up taking me two years, both writing, editing, editing again, and editing _again _until I finally decided that if I kept editing, then I'd spend the rest of my life editing it over and over and never actually post it anywhere. This story went with me through my senior year, my high school graduation, my first year of college, my first summer home from college, and finally my sophomore year. I never intended to post it, but finally decided that if I really did want to be officially done with it, I'd have to share it. Otherwise all 515 typed pages would sit around in my computer and do nothing but take up space.

My goal of this semester is to stop hiding stories in my computer and actually share them with people. I figured this would be a good place to start. This story took enough time…enough research (me and the psychology section of my library became fast friends), enough swearing, enough bloody memorization of parts of SC, where I really _do_ need to stick it somewhere, if solely for the purpose of sticking it somewhere.

So here it is. Enjoy!))

"Either I will find a way or I will make one." –Sir Philip Sidney

"Will the future ever arrive? …should we continue to look upwards? Is the light we can see in the sky one of those which will presently be extinguished? The ideal is terrifying to behold, lost as it is in the depths, small, isolated, a pin-point, brilliant but threatened on all sides by dark forces that surround it; nevertheless, no more in danger than a star in the jaws of the clouds." –Victor Hugo, _Les Miserables_

"Already madness lifts its wing

to cover half my soul.

That taste of opiate wine!

Lure of the dark valley!

Now everything is clear.

I admit my defeat. The tongue

of my ravings in my ear

is the tongue of a stranger." –Anna Akhmatova, _Requiem_

* * *

Chapter One 

The first thing that Sarasael Inari noticed was the cold. It was rather hard for her not to notice, as she was dressed in a cheery, summery dress native to her homeland of Tahalset. It was a tropical world she lived in, and even during the winters it wasn't this cold. But she wasn't at all dressed for this, this sudden strange, bitter cold that sank through her thin dress and across her bare arms. It was the worst cold she had ever felt, even worse than that day Marian from Third Precinct thought it would be funny to make a cold solution and blow it underneath the door of the second years in an attempt to freeze them in their beds. Sarasael and the others nearly had frozen, but the headmistress had come in just in time and blown the spell away. She hadn't seen Marian since then.

Next she noticed was that instead of sitting on the warm grass and palm fronds, she was on a very hard stone floor. What finally convinced her that she was no longer in any place she knew, though, was the smell. It was frozen and dead, the bitter cold of winter mixed with a smell of abandonment. All the students had learned to recognize the smell of abandoned places, because back in Tahalset, abandoned places usually harbored dark secrets.

She didn't open her eyes at first. She really didn't _want_ to, preferring instead to continue lying where she was in the hopes that the strange surroundings would melt away, leaving her safe in her bed, the nightmare over. Eventually, though, it just got so cold that she felt she'd freeze to this very spot if she didn't move. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Sarasael opened her eyes.

In front of her, there was nothing. All around her…well, she couldn't have imagined a place more different than Tahalset if she stayed up all night with her best friend Hylaea at a party in the aforementioned Third Precinct.

She was in a room, an enormous room with a high, vaulted ceiling…or what was left of a ceiling. The room was mostly in ruin, with broken stones and fallen arches all around her. The floor she was sitting on was of smooth, gray stone, and the remains of the walls looked to be made of that as well. It was a very old room and gave off an air of neglect and forget. It was obvious no one had lived here in hundreds of years.

But by far the strangest thing in the room was in front of her. It was a doorway made completely of obsidian, with nothing behind it. Not even a door…only a blank doorway.

It was so strange that Sarasael stepped forward and stuck her arm through the doorway. All that happened, though, was that it came out the other side, looking the same. It didn't seem to be a doorway into anything. She ran her hand through it a few more times with the same results. There was just a random doorway here, for no reason, leading nowhere. It was quite puzzling. Had it not been so cold, and had she had any idea where she was, she probably would have spent a longer time looking at it and called her friend over to look with her.

But it _was_ cold and this doorway didn't seem to do anything, and there was no one else here but her. She stepped away from the doorway and picked her way through the rubble, trying to find anything that looked vaguely familiar to her. There was nothing in this room, so she followed the stairs up and found herself in a long hallway. She walked slowly down the hallway, her footsteps echoing eerily off the walls.

"Hello?" Sarasael called, uncertain. "Is anyone here?" No one answered her call and she was getting colder and colder by the minute. Fearing hypothermia, she came to the abrupt decision that she needed to leave this silent, dead place and, seeing several doors to her right, she walked up to one and tugged on the handle. It didn't open. She moved to the next one and tried again. In this way, she wandered the strange place for a good fifteen minutes before she got so sick of it that she stopped at one door and pulled hard on the handle, so hard that the door burst from its hinges entirely. She waited a little while until the dust settled, holding her breath and praying the noise wouldn't wake anything up. Then she walked timidly into that room, peering around.

Sorry, if anyone is in here," she said apologetically. But it was obvious no one was, though this room was actually more preserved than the rest of the castle. Ancient layers of dust hung over everything, from the chair in the corner to the table covered in old broken objects of a sort (Sarasael wasn't quite sure what they were) and a boudoir in the corner.

As soon as she saw the boudoir, she walked over and tried to open it. If it was this cold around here all the time, then the people who once lived here would have had to wear warm clothes. Maybe some of those clothes would be left and she could borrow them until she discovered where she was and could go home. She would be sure to return them before she left. Surely they wouldn't mind.

She pried at the lock for a long time, but couldn't get it open. Finally, her fingers turning numb, she fumbled for one of the pouches in the belt she wore around her waist. She touched each of the pouches before coming to the one she was looking for. Opening it, she took a pinch of gold powder in her hand and flung it at the lock, whispering a word. The powder ignited in the lock, there was a click, and the boudoir swung open.

It was just an average boudoir outside, but the inside was filled with more pretty dresses than Sarasael had ever seen in her life, except maybe in movies or in old pictures of kings and queens. They were all made of fine material; some even had jewels or silver threaded into them. She picked up the train of one of the skirts, and the fine, tightly woven material slid through her fingers, the brilliant jewels glittering in the dusty air. There was more value in this small boudoir of dresses than in all of Third Precinct…

But why, then, was it abandoned? If there were such riches in these clothes, Yarrin only knew what would be in the rest of the castle.

Sarasael knew it was wrong to steal, especially steal things of value, but the cold was terrible and her thin dress was made for Tahalset spring, not…not winter of wherever this place was. There really was no other option for her. She closed her eyes a moment and made a quick prayer to Yarrin, asking for forgiveness for her theft, then reached into the boudoir, searching for the warmest thing there.

Most of the dresses were white and glittery, except for one which looked much older and was full of all kinds of gorgeous colors…unfortunately, that was the most expensive looking dress, and she didn't dare touch it. Finally, she pulled out a mantle made of thick white fur, and threw it on over her shoulders. It was very warm and she immediately felt better. It was good fur, too, not like the old scratchy ones given to first years at Mayharran.

She really wanted to look at the dresses more, for she had a secret love for pretty dresses and sparkly things. But she knew it would be wrong, she was being terribly nosy enough as it was, not to mention a thief, stealing this mantle and all.

Would this still be a thievery, if this place was disowned, the owner dead a thousand years or more?

She didn't feel like thinking of any deep moral questions at the moment. But now that she was warm, she _did_ feel like looking at the doorway.

It was still obsidian, still randomly in the room, and still didn't lead to anywhere. She poked all around it, walked through it several times, and it still just stood there. Maybe there used to be a door in it leading somewhere? But why would there be a door in the middle of a big room in the first place? It didn't make any sense.

There was still no one here, though. Sarasael figured then if she could find someone, then she'd be able to figure out where she was and how she could get home. The only thing she could come up with was that there was some sort of magical discharge, maybe someone in her dormitory or elsewhere in the school or nearby town made a powder wrong, and said the wrong words with it, and it created a disruption that sent her here…wherever _here_ was. She didn't know how she got caught in it…all she was doing was practicing her shapeshifting outside during lunch. She wanted to get it _right _and get Hylaea to shut up about how she could do it better.

Deciding there was nothing in this main room, she wandered out of the rubble and eventually came to a mess of mouldy wood that was once a door. She climbed over the wood and into the open air, and got the first sight of the country that she was in.

It was a high, lonely country, with plains stretching out before her. The castle…now that she saw the whole of it…was entirely in ruins and looked like it had been smashed up by a giant or a roc or maybe even a dragon. The country seemed entirely devoid of life. It was very cold and it felt like she was the only living thing for miles. The wind whistled over the ruins and ruffled her hair and the fur, and that was the only movement there was. The sun was just sinking down over a distant mountain range, and she couldn't even see any birds flying in the distance.

Sarasael shivered violently, this time not just because of the cold. There was no sign of Tahalset or her friends or anything even vaguely familiar. The landscape was totally foreign…no palm trees or dense undergrowth, just a flat plain with dry grass. She tried to think of where this could possibly be…was it anywhere in the north? Northern Tahalset was colder than Mayharran, but it wasn't this empty, and she couldn't think of any plains or abandoned castles with strange, empty doorways in them. It wasn't northern Tahalset, it wasn't _anywhere_ on any map she could possibly think of. Had they mentioned it in geography? Had she ever even bothered to pay attention in geography? No, she just threw paper at the back of Hylaea's head and tried to get it stuck there, and Vizaral sat behind her and braided her hair.

Panicking, Sarasael frantically flicked through each of the pouches on her belt, trying to find something that could help her. She had all her powders with her now, thankfully, since she had been outside between classes at school before showing up here, so there was bound to be something there. Communication? No. Enchantment? No. Happiness, generic spell, passion, silence…nothing! Nothing at all.

Growing more and more desperate, Sarasael finally rested her hand on the furthest pouch from the center. It was spelled for forgetting, so that one didn't automatically think of using it. Inside was the rare white powder…for emergencies. No one knew what exactly the white powder did when you threw it and spoke the words…that was the whole point of it. It was only to be used in emergencies, and when used it would give you what you most needed to escape from that trouble. But it was not to be used lightly. This was impressed upon every single Mayharran student from the moment they turned eight until death… _not to be used lightly_. Sarasael didn't even make her own white powder, it was given to her by the headmistress.

But the plain was empty and so was the castle, and Sarasael had _no idea_ where she was and had a horrid feeling she wasn't in Tahalset anymore. If this wasn't an emergency, well, then the headmistress would scold her and she would get in trouble. But at least if she got in trouble, it would be at home.

Sarasael took a small pinch of white powder and sprinkled it into her hand. It sparkled in the sunlight brilliantly, like snow…or what she always imagined snow to look like when she read about in the old legends. Mayharran was too far south to ever get snow. She closed her eyes, feeling that this was a bad idea, but it was the only thing she could think of doing. Taking a deep breath, she threw the powder into the air and said the proper words. There was a loud popping sound, and…everything around her blurred, and a great dizziness suddenly swept through her entire being. The wind rushed past her ears and the landscape changed and zoomed by at a strange, frightening pace. Then there was intense heat, fire flared up around her, then vanished and left her standing…standing…

"No! Draw your swords, she's wearing white, don't you see!" a voice cried next to her. For the second time that day, Sarasael opened her eyes and was greeted with…well, another unpleasant sight.

She was no longer in front of the castle, but instead in a forest. It was slightly warmer, and it was night, and the trees hung ominously over her head. She was standing up and next to her was a squirrel with a sword drawn, pointing it at her. There were also three dwarves, a dryad, and an antelope. Next to her were the ashes of a fire that was just extinguished, and Sarasael had this odd idea that she just came out of that fire. It was dark except for a few lights around her that no doubt belonged to the strange company she was seeing. The wind rustled lightly in the trees but for the most part it was still, and the air smelled of dead leaves and ash.

The squirrel prodded her with his sword. It was smaller than her, obviously, and didn't even come to her waist. But it was holding a sword pointed straight at her and was now prodding her side with it. She bit back a yelp and stepped away from it.

"Don't let her get away!" Said the antelope…well, Antelope. "But don't provoke her or she'll turn you to stone. You know the old legends."

"I know the legends perfectly well, Runningwind. That's why I've got my sword drawn…if she does anything funny, I'll run her through." Answered the Squirrel.

"Nay, but she'll be nice to _us_." One of the dwarves said. "She always liked dwarves. You wouldn't harm us dwarves, would you, miss?" He turned to her as he said that. He was the first person to address Sarasael directly.

She took three more steps back from the congregation of angry creatures. She wasn't all surprised at the talking Beasts…in Tahalset, there was a fair number of Beasts. But there, it was only the more regal and larger Beasts that talked…horses and elephants and such. Not Squirrels. They were nicer there, too, and didn't point swords at her.

"Say something!" said a different dwarf. "If you really are the White Witch come back from the dead, you ought to have something to say…"

Those words registered in Sarasael's mind. They thought she was a _witch_…

"I'm not a witch!" Sarasael snapped, going from frightened to furious in only a moment. "I'm an enchantress. Witches are cowardly, weak creatures who can't do _any_ proper magic and run away from the sight of anything dangerous. Enchantresses are brave and smart and not afraid of anything. Don't you dare call me a witch!" Witches in Tahalset were people who had no magic of their own, so they would buy the powder that enchanters and magicians made, read the words out of spell books, and steal other people's magic to make them stronger instead.

The creatures all blinked at her sudden outburst. The Squirrel stalked up to her and raised his sword higher. "If you're not a witch, then why are you wearing her mantle?"

"Whose mantle?" asked Sarasael in bewilderment.

The Squirrel poked the white fur she was wearing. "That mantle. It belonged to the White Witch. It's in all the old pictures in the history books…they all show her wearing that. Now you're wearing it too, and it gives _us_ right to believe that perhaps you are the Witch, coming back for vengeance on all of Narnia for your death."

The Antelope took a defensive stance, and the dwarves eyed her warily. The Squirrel fixed her with a vicious stare. "We won't let you take Narnia from us again. Aslan killed you once, and he'll do it again, in order to keep his land free. And if he doesn't, then we will, for we'll not be enslaved again!" The Antelope snorted in agreement, and the dwarves nodded, though their nods were slightly more reluctant than the rest.

"But…but I'm not a witch of any kind," Sarasael said frantically. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You came out of the fire." Growled Runningwind. "The fire glowed white for a moment, then you stepped out of it in your white fur, in front of us. The Witch did that…she'd appear without warning, though it was usually on a sleigh. But what you just did…that's magic right there. And we don't like that."

The Squirrel nodded and poked her again, this time more threateningly.

"Please!" Sarasael exclaimed, holding her hands up to defend herself from the sword. "Please, I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Sarasael Inari, and I'm an enchantress from Tahalset and I live in Mayharran…that's a city in Tahalset…and go to school there. I live near my best friend Hylaea Rian and she goes to school with me too. I'm not a witch, please don't harm me…I don't even know who this White Witch is you're talking about. There's never been any White Witch in the land where I'm from…it never even snows there! Please!" She knew she sounded desperate, but she never before had anyone point a sword at her and didn't know what else to say.

The only one who took notice of this was the dryad, who went forward and put her arms around Sarasael.

"Do not harm her," the dryad said. "She does not mean _us_ any harm. If she wanted to hurt us, she would have done so already. And the White Witch was much older than us." Sarasael nodded vigorously. "How old are you, child?"

"I'm sixteen," Sarasael replied quickly.

"There," the dryad nodded. "The Witch was immortal, thousands of years old, or so it was told. Don't you remember the pictures? She was tall and terrible, nothing like this frightened child here."

Sarasael resented being called a frightened child, as she was certainly not _this _cowardly…no enchantress was! Especially not her. She and Hylaea had been the only ones to sleep out in the cemetery last year when they were first years. They weren't afraid to stay up all night with the ghosts. Everyone thought they were crazy, but they were brave…braver than even the boys over at the boys' school. And the spirits were really nice…Sarasael and Hylaea weren't frightened at all, and instead got to hear funny stories from a grandmother who died three years ago and liked to talk about her grandkids.

The others weren't as quick to believe her story as the dryad was. They all remembered, from the stories, that the White Witch was a wicked person and given to lies and deceit to achieve her ends. For all they knew, this girl's fear and youth was only a ploy to get them to believe her before she turned them all to stone.

"Then what's this?" the Squirrel reached up, his nimble fingers undoing her belt and snatching it off her waist.

"No, don't touch that!" Sarasael tore herself from the dryad's arms.

The Squirrel opened one of the pouches and peered inside it. He gasped.

"What's this?" he reached in with a small paw and took out some of the pouch's contents. The yellow powder inside glittered on his outstretched paw. "Spices? Dust?" He glared at the girl. "What is it?"

"Happiness," Sarasael answered. They all stared at her. "Well, it is. I'll show you, if you want." She held out her own hand and indicated for the Squirrel to give the powder to her. Maybe if she showed them, they would be less hostile towards her. And it was happiness, and her happiness powder always made things better. It was said that Sarasael was the best maker of Happiness in her class, even better than Hylaea.

The Squirrel looked doubtful, but sprinkled the powder into her hand. "Any false moves," he said. "And I'll run you through." And she had no doubt that he would.

Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, she closed her eyes and focused on the powder in her hand. She made it herself, so it was already attuned to her. And it wanted very much to be _used._

She threw it up in the air and said the proper words. There was a small _poof_, and the air seemed lighter in the forest and all the creatures present felt their hearts gladden. The dwarves smiled at each other and the Antelope stood down from his defensive position and took the time to nibble at a patch of grass in front of him. The Squirrel, though he felt happier, did not lower his sword.

"See?" Sarasael said. "No harm done, really. It's just happiness." She retrieved her belt with its other pouches and clipped it back around her waist.

The Squirrel nodded warily. "I see that. But how did you do that? No one can make us all feel happy without…"

"Witchcraft?" suggested Runningwind, but he didn't sound accusatory when he said it, just factual.

"Yes." The Squirrel stood strong, even though the others had backed down. But he was feeling better than he was before and less inclined to stab anyone. "How about you tell us how you did that." he began slowly, "and tell us _exactly_ who you are, and why you are wearing the Witch's mantle, and what all this _powder_ is. Then we'll see what to do with you."

Sarasael sighed and ran a hand through her blonde hair, tugging at the end of it. She thought the happiness would stop this confrontation; it usually did with all others. However Squirrels were different than Mayharran citizens, and clearly far more wary.

"My name really is Sarasael Inari," she answered honestly. "Yarrin strike me down if I lie to you. All I said before was true. I am an enchantress…lots of people in Tahalset have magic, but enchanters and magicians are the strongest. Um…I use the powder for magical workings?" She had no idea how to explain this, because she forgot how it was explained to her all those years ago. "Um…there's lots of plants and stuff that grow all around the island, both regular plants and magical plants. We pick the plants and dry their leaves and flowers and chop them up really fine and make them into powder…and…we use a different powder for each spell. It's like, some people use wands, don't they?" She'd read in books of people in other worlds who instead of throwing powder would wave a wand and say a magic word and make things happen. "We use powder instead. We throw the powder in the air and say the proper words and it makes something happen. I've got yellow which makes things happy, white which is for emergencies, gold which is just generic spells, I just have to say any spell word and it'll usually work…you know…like that," she finished, realizing how ridiculous her explanation had sounded. The school's headmistress said it much better than her. "It's how we do magic."

"Magic. Did you hear that?" said one of the dwarves, poking another.

"Not _bad_ magic. At least I don't do bad magic. There are evil enchanters and evil magicians, but to make that sort of powder…well, I don't have the skill for it. You have to be really evil to make that sort of thing. I'm not evil." Her last words came out defensively, as they seemed to _think_ she was evil.

None of the others said anything, except the dryad, who placed a hand on Sarasael's shoulder. "She means what she says," the dryad affirmed. "If she was lying, you'd see it in her eyes. She does not lie. Perhaps we should not lie either." The dryad looked honestly at her. "My name is Rowan, I am a dryad who belongs to that tree." She pointed to a beautiful young rowan tree a few feet away. "This is Twitternut." She pointed to the Squirrel. "He is very brave, the bravest of all of us, do not judge him too harshly for his actions. That is Runningwind," she indicated the Antelope. "And the three dwarves are Minnik, Tinarik, and Gorbak." The three dwarves nodded at each other and at the dryad.

"We're simple folk," growled Gorbak. "We live in this forest, except for Runningwind who lives out on the plains and comes here to visit us sometimes. It's not often our lives are…disrupted like this."

"I'm sorry." Sarasael apologized. "I really didn't mean to. I'm just…terribly lost." She bit her lip, remembering again just how _lost_ she was. "Have _any_ of you heard of Tahalset? That's where I'm from. I have no idea how I got here, really I don't."

"Tahalset?" the three dwarves looked at each other and shrugged. "No, you're in the Shuddering Wood, in Narnia."

"Where's Narnia?"

"It's…here?" shrugged Minnik. "You're in Narnia. It's all around you, this country. I don't know of any place called Tahalset or whatever else you mentioned."

"Mayharran?" Sarasael's voice dropped down to a whisper.

"No, sorry."

"Why are you wearing the Witch's mantle then?" Twitternut interrupted sharply. "We still haven't covered that." Despite being a Squirrel, Twitternut was very sensible and had a good head on his shoulders.

"I don't know," Sarasael answered. "I was…I was out practicing my shapeshifting, and the next thing I knew I was in a castle. A ruin of a castle, that is, and it was terribly cold, and I didn't know what to do. I…oh, I took this from a boudoir I found in the castle. It's not mine. But I didn't have anything warm and this was all I could find. I didn't know where I was! If this belongs to your White Witch, I'll return it with many apologies because I didn't mean to steal it." She took the end of the mantle and twisted it nervously in her fingers.

Twitternut sighed and put his sword away. "I don't know what to make of you," he remarked, shaking his head. "You're the strangest thing I've ever seen. Look like a witch, do magic like a witch, yet you don't talk like one and you haven't tried to harm us at all. You're an odd one."

Sarasael didn't know what to say. She was more lost than she was at the castle, because now she was in a strange forest with strange creatures and they were calling her odd and thought she was a witch and…and…well, she had no idea what was going on. And she had a feeling she didn't want to.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really don't know what else to say."

"Then don't say anything," the dryad advised softly. "Really, this situation is a bit odd for us, too."

"It's also night." Minnik interrupted. "And it's late. We should all go to bed. Maybe this whole strange incursion will make more sense in the morning. Things usually do, in my experience. Goodnight everyone." And Minnik left.

"He's right, actually." Runningwind nodded. "Everything makes sense when seen in the morning light. We can try to figure out all this tomorrow. But…what do we do with her?" He tossed his head in Sarasael's direction.

Sarasael pulled the fur closer around her, shivering. Were they going to leave her out here, at night? She'd never slept alone outside before. There was a field trip once with her class and they had to stay out all night in tents, but there were teachers and guards and wards put up all over the place.

"She'll stay with me," Gorbak said finally. "There's nowhere else, and room enough in my house. She can stay on the couch. Tomorrow morning we'll meet again and decide what we're going to do about this."

This satisfied the others. It was a strange situation, but the creatures of Narnia have endured much stranger situations and kept a level head in it. This was no different. Rowan paused briefly to give Sarasael a comforting hug before going back to her tree. Tinarik left and Runningwind trotted out of the clearing to wherever he had been staying.

"We'll meet tomorrow," Twitternut agreed. "Don't try anything funny on us in the night. I'll be ready for you if you do. Keep watch over her, Gorbak." With that final parting comment, Twitternut dashed up the nearest tree on the way to his house.

Still lost, and now very frightened, Sarasael drew the mantle tight around her and looked at the dwarf Gorbak, with whom she was now alone. There _were_ dwarves in Tahalset, but she had only seen them a few times. Mostly they lived in one of the northern cities because Mayharran was far too warm for their liking.

"Come on, girl. It's late and I want my sleep too." The dwarf set off through the forest, and Sarasael had no choice but to follow him or be left alone in the dark. She walked quickly behind him, trying not to bang her head on low hanging branches or get her hair tangled. Finally, they came to Gorbak's hut. It was a nice little hut, small, with smoke rising from an opening in the ceiling. The door was very low to the ground though, and Sarasael had to hunch over to get in the house.

The inside of it was very pleasant and reminded her somewhat of the dining hall back at school, only smaller, with dimmer lighting, and something else she couldn't place that made her feel lost. Everything was decorated strangely, it didn't have any palm trees or potted plants, no powders or emblazons of Yarrin on the wall. There was a small table and a little oven in the entrance, and lights with candles in them illuminated the room in a cheerful manner. They used candles here…in Mayharran they used electric lighting, which was much more environmentally safe. It was harder to burn things down with electric lights. Besides, fires were only used for magical workings and communications.

"Welcome to my home. It's not much, I bet one such like you…you magic types…are used to living in castles or grand palaces. But here's where you can stay for the night, let me show you to your room."

She followed Gorbak…still hunched over…into a smaller room where there was a couch near a fireplace. "Living room," grunted Gorbak. "Too small for you, but it's all I have. You may sleep on the couch. I will wake you in the morning and we will have breakfast before we meet with the others. I hope you'll feel better in the morning." He bowed slightly to her, which she found odd, before dismissing it as a respectful gesture. He kindled the fire before smiling slightly at her. "Goodnight, miss," he said quietly. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

The rekindled fire filled the room with nice, soft, comforting warmth. It was warm enough where Sarasael could take off the stolen mantle and feel the air on her bare arms again, which she liked and was used to. She moved closer to the fire and sat down in front of it, staring hard into the crackling flames and just feeling the heat dry her skin. It was very hot this close, but no worse than midday back home, with the sun beating down through the palm trees.

That's where she was, just this morning. She had gone out after lunch to practice shapeshifting, which she was just beginning to get the hang of. She'd almost managed it too, though Hylaea hadn't been able to help her as she had promised (she'd had to make up a math test). It had been such a normal day. Almost boring…

This, whatever it was, was certainly not boring. It was the last thing she was expecting, on a perfectly normal day at home, to suddenly find herself a million (or more?) miles away in some random castle, and now here at the end of the day to be sitting in a dwarf's living room while a group of creatures in a wood worried about 'what was to be done with her'. It was all too much for her to figure out, especially since she didn't even know if she was still in Tahalset anywhere, and…

Sarasael felt herself dropping off in front of the fire. It had been a long, strange day, and her use of the white powder drained a lot of her strength. This was more than she was _ever_ used to dealing with, and she had a horrible feeling that it wasn't even over yet, that this strangeness was just the beginning…

But the beginning of what, she didn't know and didn't want to think about. And wasn't _going_ to think about. With a sigh, Sarasael turned away from the fire and went over to the dwarf's couch. It was too small for her, but she managed to find a comfortable position on it. There was a blanket thrown over it, and she took off the blanket and pulled it over herself. It was thin but the fire was warm enough that she wasn't too cold. Sarasael leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, hoping somehow things _would_ make more sense in the morning light.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

((I remember brainstorming this walking home one day senior year. Ah, nostalgia. Thanks to the reviewers of chapter the first!))

"It's morning now, miss. Time to get up…I have breakfast ready, then we have to be going to meet the others." Sarasael heard an unknown voice saying to her, jolting her out of her dreams, which were quite normal considering the situation. She opened her eyes blearily and sat up, feeling sore and cramped from sleeping in an odd position all night. The couch was too small for her and she had fallen half off of it during the night.

"What?" she answered muddily.

"Breakfast, miss. It's time to wake up."

Sarasael sighed and stood up, forgetting where she was and hitting her head on the ceiling. She sat down quickly on the couch again, rubbing the spot on her head. That's right, she was in a dwarf's house in some place called Narnia. She'd nearly forgotten about _that_.

It was morning now, and last night's events seemed dreamlike and surreal. Now that the house was outlined in the clear light of day, Sarasael felt that she could think more clearly, and her practical nature set in. She was in a dwarf's house in some country called Narnia. That she could handle. She still had all her powders with her, and she could no doubt open some sort of communication between herself here and the fires back at Mayharran school. It was no problem, in fact, she felt rather embarrassed about her panic attack last night.

She stood up and made her way into the kitchen. The dwarf…she remembered his name was Gorbak…had fried a few eggs and made some toast and already had a glass of milk where she was sitting. He was also kind enough to remove the chair, so Sarasael could sit on the floor comfortably.

When she was done, Gorbak stood up. "Alright, miss, we'd better be going. They'll be waiting for us." Sarasael nodded and didn't say anything. She just followed the dwarf out of his house and back into the wood.

The wood, too, was much nicer in the sunlight. The light filtered through the trees and Sarasael felt better about everything just from seeing that. It was a really pretty wood and the air was warmer and smelled rich and piney from the trees. She closed her eyes and let the wind blow on her face, which helped wake her up. The trees didn't look as ominous or creepy anymore.

No one else had arrived at the clearing yet. Gorbak shook his head. "They said they would meet here at sunrise," he said. "They either slept in or forgot about it entirely. If you'll…would you mind waiting here? I'll go find the others and bring them back here as soon as possible."

Sarasael nodded. "That would be fine," she answered. She felt better this morning, but still didn't want to face the gathering of creatures she had met the previous night. They all seemed very fierce and they called her a _witch_. Not to mention how unreal last night felt, and if she saw them again it might make her realize that last night really _did_ happen, and she wasn't sure she wanted that.

With the dwarf gone, Sarasael noticed the remnants of the fire she had stepped out of last night. Then it dawned on her. A fire! If she could make a fire, she could communicate with someone back home! She should have done that last night, except she was too busy panicking. Come to think of it, she could have just spoke with them back at the ruins instead of using her white powder to take her away from there. Now the headmistress was going to kill her for using it for something foolish. Cursing her own stupidity, Sarasael broke several branches off a tree and piled them up, then took a pinch of her gold powder and used it to light the fire. Then she took out some of her blue powder, for communication, and did the same. "Hylaea Rian," she said clearly.

The fire shimmered for longer than it was supposed to…_much _longer…before the flames turned a deep blue and the face of her friend Hylaea appeared in them, looking tired and surprised. Her glasses were still dangling from her fingers and she shoved them on her nose, squinting at the fire.

"Sara?" she blinked in bewilderment. The fire had sprung up in her dormitory at school, and back home it wasn't even sunrise. What're you doing?" Then Hylaea sat up and shook her head. "No, scratch that." She said. "Where _are_ you? When you didn't come home after lunch yesterday, we were all so worried. Then you didn't show up all night and we all thought you got kidnapped or something!"

Sarasael felt so relieved at seeing her friend again, and her friend's worry, that she sat down in front of the fire and immediately began relaying all the strangeness of yesterday's events to her friend as quickly as she could.

"And then I stayed with some dwarf all night and now I'm here talking to you," she finished. "Because the dwarf went to find all the other people who were here last night. They're trying to decide 'what to do with me', and I have _no_ idea what they mean or what they're talking about. Or where Narnia is. Have you ever heard of Narnia?"

"No." Hylaea shook her head. "Never heard of it at all. But I don't pay attention in geography…who does?"

"Not me," Sarasael agreed.

"And they called you a _witch_? I can't believe they'd insult you like that!"

"Neither can I!" Sarasael added vehemently. "And the Squirrel kept acting like I was going to take over the world or something or use my magic to kill them all."

"Only evil enchanters do _that_." Hylaea emphasized. "Narnia? That's so strange, I have no idea how you got there. Maybe it's a land in the north or something. Still, it can't be too bad if you're still able to communicate through here to the dormitory…"

"You're probably right. And there's a lot of unexplored lands too, that could be where that castle is. And we learned about ruins and this ruin was pretty creepy, just like the ones they tell us about…it was totally abandoned."

"That is creepy." Hylaea shuddered. "I…ooh, no, headmistress, I wasn't doing anything illegal!" Hylaea turned away from the fire and Sarasael saw only her back. "It's nothing, just talking through the fire, just like any other average day…" A second later, Hylaea was shoved aside and Sarasael got a too-close view of the pinched face of the Mayharran Girls' School headmistress staring pointedly at her.

The headmistress had been such for only six years but she was the type of person where, once she got the position, one could easily imagine her having been there forever. She gave off that feeling of no-nonsense and authority and the general bossiness which one obviously needs when dealing with large amounts of girls living in one place. She was a bony old woman with a thin face and flyaway gray hair and dark brown eyes that locked into Sarasael's the instant she came into view.

"Miss Inari?" the headmistress said, sounding slightly confused.

"Um…good morning, headmistress," Sarasael answered politely.

The headmistress blinked before shaking her head. "Miss Inari, you were not here yesterday after lunch. No one has seen you since, and your mother was in a near state of panic last night when you didn't call her. We searched the whole school for you and not a single sign could be found! Even Hylaea didn't know where you had gone, and this is very unusual. And then…hmm…wait, this is odd…"

"What's odd?" asked Hylaea curiously, but the headmistress shot her a glare.

"There was an extraordinary and unusual surge of magic coming from this fireplace when you went to communicate with Miss Rian." The headmistress said. "I've always had your dormitory closely monitored after the watermelon incident."

Sarasael and Hylaea exchanged slightly guilty looks at the mention of that.

"And when I saw that, I had the feeling that Miss Rian was doing another…experiment of some sort…and wanted to make sure everything was safe. And now I see you, Miss Inari. It is not like you not to come back in the afternoon, and we were quite worried when Miss Rian said she could not find you."

"Oh, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation, headmistress," Sarasael answered quickly, putting her hands down in her lap and not meeting the headmistress's eyes. She really didn't, because what could possibly be a reasonable explanation of appearing in a castle somewhere, but Sarasael had spent years under the headmistress and was always quick to say whatever she could say that would get her in the least bit of trouble.

"Well?"

Sarasael gave the headmistress the same story she did Hylaea, but the headmistress's reactions were far different. While Hylaea looked _very_ interested and concerned, the headmistress's eyebrows snapped together and her eyes grew intense and troubled.

"You have no idea how you've come to be there…wherever you are, then?" the headmistress concluded. Sarasael shook her head.

The fire flickered suddenly, so suddenly it startled Sarasael and she nearly fell over. Both Hylaea's face and that of the headmistress almost vanished, before she could hear the headmistress say something…though it sounded faint and faraway…and they came into view again. But this time the view was vaguer, and their faces and outlines were blurred. Something was terribly wrong…that _never_ happened during a communication.

"Sara?" she could hear Hylaea's voice, which had that same distant quality. "Sara? Sara I can't see you anymore!" Hylaea sounded panicked.

"Hylaea!" she shouted, getting really close to the fire so that it nearly singed her eyebrows off. "Don't leave me!"

"Sara!"

She heard the headmistress say a few more words and the faces came into sharper focus. Hylaea saw her again and relaxed, but Sarasael didn't. She knew malfunctioning magical workings when she saw it.

The headmistress looked hard at Sarasael for a moment before turning to Hylaea. "Miss Rian," her voice was soft and had the strained voice of one trying too hard to be calm. "Fetch the magistrate immediately."

"The _magistrate?_" Hylaea exclaimed, disbelievingly. Her eyes met Sarasael's and they were frightened.

"Yes, Miss Rian, the magistrate. Right now, I don't know how much longer the connection is going to remain open."

Sarasael bit her lip hard as Hylaea got up and left. The magistrate…Yarrin's claws, if they were going to fetch the magistrate, it _must_ be serious.

"Don't panic," the headmistress said. "I am just sensing a very…unusual situation. But there is no doubt the magistrate ought to be able to rectify it."

Sarasael nodded and tried taking deep breaths to calm herself. She'd only seen the magistrate once before in her life when the magistrate stopped at the school to speak to the headmistress and accidentally walked in on a class.

Hylaea reappeared breathlessly a few minutes later. "I called for her and she said she's coming," she said quickly. The headmistress nodded.

"Good. This will all be settled, then. Miss Inari, you have nothing to worry about."

"You don't," Hylaea added vigorously, sticking her face close to the fire so Sarasael could see her better. "The magistrate can do _anything_."

Neither of them spoke until the magistrate herself arrived. There was a flicker in the fire and for a moment, Sarasael thought it was going to go out all together. Then she heard harsh words spoken and the fire blazed up ten times stronger than before. She could now pick out each detail of their faces as if she was standing right there.

The magistrate, too, had grey hair just like the headmistress. But it was short and pulled back sharply away from her square face. Her eyes were so dark that they were almost black, and her lips pressed thinly together as she looked through the fire at Sarasael. Sarasael backed slightly away, for this was the closest she had ever gotten to the magistrate. Hylaea was feeling the same way because she skittered back a few paces.

"Sarasael Inari?" The magistrate's voice was strong and steady. "Leida Inari's daughter. Your brother is Mordian, isn't he? You have the same eyes."

Sarasael nodded.

"Yes. I knew your mother well. Now, what is this?" She waved her hand to indicate the fire. "Your young friend here was frantic, apparently saying something dreadful had happened to you and you were transported somewhere with dwarves? I can tell you've been transported somewhere, this…this connection is very difficult to keep open. It's a wonder you were even able to open it in the first place. Now, why don't you tell me what happened to you?"

Sarasael didn't want to tell the story _again_, but it was the magistrate and she had no choice.

The magistrate didn't have the same reactions the others did. She just nodded at intervals and looked extremely curious, and stopped her every once in awhile to ask questions about the land, the people she met, the way they spoke, the ruins she had appeared at…so many questions.

When she had finished, the magistrate's lips had thinned even more and she gave a small shake of her head. She reached out for her own pouch and took a very small pinch of powder out…it was of a color that Sarasael didn't even recognize. It was one of the magistrate's personally made ones…no one besides her could make it, whatever it did. The magistrate threw it through the fire and whispered something, then nodded again.

"Well that does it," the magistrate sighed.

"What does it?" the headmistress asked sharply.

"I'm not quite sure how, either…come over here a moment, there is something I need to discuss with you." The magistrate stood up and indicated for the headmistress to follow. Hylaea once again appeared in front of Sarasael.

"This is getting really strange," Hylaea said. "Now the magistrate is involved and I have _no_ idea what she's talking about. Ooh and they're whispering now! That's never a good sign."

"Hylaea, I don't like this."

"Neither do I." She glanced over where the two adults were talking. "But I'm sure it'll be settled. And…okay, just to take your mind off of it, I have to tell you what Noril did last night."

"Yes, please do," Sarasael was grateful for her friend's distraction, and was quickly engaged in some juicy school gossip for the next few minutes.

When the magistrate returned, she was looking very somber. She took a deep breath and looked straight at Sarasael before speaking.

"Miss Inari," she said calmly. "I must first ask you…you've heard the theory of other worlds existing, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Sarasael answered. Hylaea was obsessed with that theory.

"Ooh I have!" Hylaea interrupted. "Masargi's Theory, discovered in AC 1289, was discovered when by accident Masargi himself had mispronounced the words when doing a communication spell, and through that had opened a portal into another world. But the…"

"Enough, Miss Rian." The magistrate said softly. Hylaea stopped and looked embarrassed. The magistrate turned back to Sarasael. "We've never been able to open a portal into another world. We know they exist for we have seen them…many of Tahalset's best enchanters have been able to look into other worlds. We've never been able to cross the barriers between them and actually go physically into another world. It has always only been observation. The theories and magics behind it are not developed enough for us to travel to these other worlds we see."

"Oh," Sarasael answered vaguely.

"The reason I am telling you this," the magistrate continued. "Is that I have been involved with one of the groups doing research on these other worlds. We know that many of them exist and have even been able to define some of them, some of the newer ones."

"That's interesting," Sarasael agreed, while Hylaea nodded vigorously behind the magistrate. Hylaea knew everything about other world theories and probably wanted nothing better than to study in the same group the magistrate was mentioning.

"Yes. Well." Sarasael just had the oddest thought that the magistrate looked uncomfortable. "Miss Inari, yesterday there was a strange disturbance in the magical field around Mayharran, close to where you were. It was brief, it only lasted a second and then it passed. We were at a loss as to what it was, but then you had disappeared. My group had looked into it and…" the magistrate took a deep breath. "And what I have done and seen here today confirms it. You are in a world called Narnia. Something in that world…we aren't sure what…took you from Mayharran and dragged you there, to that ruin you mentioned. It was probably something in the ruin that brought you there."

For a second, Sarasael didn't speak. She only looked puzzled. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, you are no longer in Tahalset. You are in another world, one called Narnia. I don't know how you got there, but that's where you are now." The magistrate held out her hands and shrugged, for once in her life looking helpless. "We've never seen it happen. No one has ever actually made his or her way into another world. But somehow you did, Miss Inari,"

"I'm…in another world?" Sarasael's voice dropped down to a whisper. "One that's not in Tahalset? At all?"

"At all, I'm afraid." The magistrate sighed. "We don't…"

"Well can you bring me back?" Sarasael asked quickly. "You can bring me back, can't you? You're the magistrate, you can do anything. That's what everyone always tells us. So you can bring me back home then, right?" Her voice gradually increased in pitch.

"I'm afraid…it's not that easy." The magistrate said. "We've never had anyone go into another world. Therefore…Sarasael, I'm going to be completely honest with you." Sarasael blinked. The magistrate had just called her by her first name…

"We have never had this happen before. You're the very first person from all Tahalset that has ever set foot in another world, and it was clearly by accident. We don't know how to bring you back. It's never been done before."

"You…can't bring me back?"

"We don't know how," The magistrate admitted, and she sounded terribly helpless. There were few things in the world more frightening then the magistrate being helpless, not her, not when she was magistrate of all Mayharran. The magistrate could do anything. "I'm sorry, Sarasael. We don't know how to bring you back. I'm afraid…I'm afraid you're going to be…"

"Trapped?" Sarasael's voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch. "Trapped in this odd world with no way of getting home and away from my friends and my family and my school and my mum who is going to be terrified?" She looked at Hylaea. Hylaea was openmouthed in shock and disbelief. The headmistress couldn't even meet her eyes.

"That is…it sounds awful, but I suppose that's the truth." The magistrate said softly. "We don't know what happened."

"So I'm here," Sarasael almost shrieked. "In this Narnia place and you can't bring me back at all? But, but what about, what about…Hylaea do something!" She wailed.

"I dunno what to do," Hylaea's voice sounded forced and unnatural. "I dunno…Sara I don't know!" Hylaea buried her face in her hands.

Sarasael sat there, not knowing what to say. She felt someone move behind her but didn't pay any attention to it. This just couldn't be real…not at all…this _wasn't_ another world and the magistrate _was_ going to bring her back, right now…

The fire began flickering vigorously as if a gale was blowing in. "The connection isn't holding," the magistrate said. "It's very difficult to keep up communications across worlds. The ones we've managed were only held open for a few minutes. You are one of our better students, the power is stronger with you than with others which is probably the reason why you were able to open this connection in the first place. This one is going to close soon…Sarasael, don't lose hope. We'll find a way to bring you back home. In the meanwhile, your mother always said this…try and make the best of it that you can, alright? The moon will be full in a fortnight, contact Hylaea again at that time and we will speak with you again then. That's all I can tell you now…"

The fire flicked heavily and she could hear Hylaea in the background, but couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Don't lose hope, Sarasael, and I promise we'll work on this every day for the next two weeks until we can bring you back. We promise. We…" but the fire then flickered out and died, leaving smouldering embers and burnt ash and wood.

Sarasael shivered as she stared blankly into the dead fire. It was cold. It was colder in this forest than she had remembered. Maybe it was night now and it was winter, and winter in this world was so much colder than home, and home was so far away and it was warm there and palm trees were everywhere and how could the magistrate not know what to do, she knew everything, that was just a fact of life! Goosebumps raised on her arms and her teeth began chattering, and it was _so_ cold and she just couldn't get warm. Her lips turned blue and she fell over on her side, violently shivering and she couldn't control it anymore. If she was home she'd be warm by now and someone would give her hot chocolate. Or tea. Or something. But she wasn't home and no one here probably ever made hot chocolate before in their _lives. _It was too cold to stay alive, the cold was eating at her bones and wouldn't let go…

"Cover her with blankets!" a voice cried above her. "Quickly, now, see how much she is shaking? And her skin is blue; she will die if we do nothing! Hurry!" the voice sounded concerned and rushed, almost frantic. The words registered vaguely in the back of Sarasael's mind, somewhere where the cold had not yet taken hold and was not trying to freeze off every inch of her body. She could hardly breathe and didn't know where she was at all.

She felt someone throw something over her and it was somewhat warm. But the warmth didn't do anything in this bitter cold. Sarasael's breath came in short gasps and she couldn't see anything in front of her and felt like she was drowning in this iciness, if such a thing was at all possible. All she wanted was to go home where it was nice and warm and _safe_…maybe if she closed her eyes, she could do that. She'd close her eyes and then open them again and be at home…

Sarasael closed her eyes. She heard frightened exclamations somewhere above her, but they all sounded so far away and she didn't want to think of them anymore. It was so much easier to just…sleep…

* * *

Sarasael felt a light touch on her shoulder. She ignored it. Then she felt a heavier touch, one that kept nudging her and poking into her side. She didn't like that. It grew more insistent and she _really_ didn't like it, and opened her eyes to tell whoever it was to shove off and leave her alone 

She moved her hand and pushed at whatever it was poking her. It didn't move, instead, it nibbled her hand sharply. "Wake up," the voice said. "Come on, you're nearly there, you can do the rest." Finally, Sarasael woke up fully and found herself peering into the eyes of…well, an Antelope.

"Good for you!" the Antelope said. "Rowan, she is awake now." The Antelope nudged her head and she could feel his sharp antlers poking her. "Sit up, you'll feel better." Sarasael struggled to sit up, finding herself in a thick bed of moss with lots of blankets thrown over her and a fluffy pillow underneath her head. It was very comfortable. The Antelope…she then suddenly recalled his name as being Runningwind…was looking at her with approval. "See, isn't that better? Rowan, where are you? I'm sorry. Rowan went off to find something for you to eat. The dwarves are with her. Twitternut?"

A second face popped up in front of her…that of Twitternut the Squirrel. He didn't have his sword anymore. "Yes, I'm here. Here." He handed Sarasael a cup of some sort of liquid. Sarasael took it and sniffed it, knowing better than to drink anything given to her by strange people. It smelled minty, which seemed safe, so she poked a finger in it and waited a moment, and the liquid was only cold but didn't burn the flesh off her hand like she heard of some substances doing.

"Oh, will you just drink it?" Twitternut said, exasperated. "It's going to help you, not hurt you, girl. We're not poisoners."

Sarasael made a face at him and then drank the liquid. It tasted minty and refreshing, and the more she drank, the more she felt her strength and awareness returning to her.

"Rowan made that," Twitternut informed her. "Dryads are quite good with that sort of thing. One would even say brilliant."

"That's good." Then she shook her head. "Did…did I faint?" Oh gods, she hoped not. Hylaea would never let her hear the end of it.

"Faint!" Twitternut took the finished cup from her. "You didn't just faint, you nearly died. Nearly worked yourself into death. I've never seen that happen before, it was quite interesting…ow!" He jerked aside as he received a sharp jab by one of Runningwind's antlers. "Well, it was!" he added defensively.

Sarasael tried to sit up and was helped by Runningwind, who gave her a nudge. "Oh. I didn't mean to faint, I just…oh." The last 'oh' was uttered vaguely, as Sarasael remembered the last conversation she had before she fainted. All the color drained from her face and she looked down at the bed of moss and Twitternut with the cup and really didn't feel like being awake anymore.

She wanted to lean back and go back to sleep, but Runningwind wouldn't let her. He stood behind her just enough so he could prod her with his antlers anytime she showed signs of trying to fall asleep. Sarasael didn't say anything, she was only vaguely annoyed at them now.

Rowan the dryad came back a short while later. She held a clipping of some herb in her hand and waved it under Sarasael's nose. Sarasael sat up again and glared at her, the harsh pungent odor annoying her right away. "What was that for? I just want to go to sleep." Sarasael said.

"I know. That is what it is for." Rowan answered. She held the herb underneath Sarasael's nose again and kept it there until the girl's color returned and she finally pushed Rowan's hand away.

"Just stop that. It's weird,"

"You must promise me not to try and sleep again, at least not the way you were before."

"I don't want to promise you _anything_. You're just a dryad from another world. You're not even a dryad from my world. We have them too, you know, but you're not _one of them_." Sarasael knew she wasn't making much sense, but didn't care too much about that, either.

"I know, child, I know." The dryad sighed and sat down next to Sarasael. "We were all so terribly nosy and couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the people of your homeworld, and…"

"D'you think I'm a witch now, then?" Sarasael glared angrily at Rowan. "You took away all my powders."

"No, we have them here." Rowan made a motion to Twitternut, who produced Sarasael's belt and handed it to her. "All witches have tried to harm people of Narnia and you have done nothing of the sort. Therefore…well, I suppose you are just an ordinary magic user, though that is very strange here…first times for everything. I do not know how you came into our world either, but…no, don't turn away like that." Sarasael wanted to get up and run away, run all the way back to the strange castle in the north where she had come from. But in her heart she knew the magistrate was right…the magistrate never lied. She was trapped here in this strange world with no contact to home at all, and couldn't risk using any more of her powders incase some ingredients used for them couldn't be found here.

She took her belt and proceeded to look through all the pouches to make sure all her powders and her manual was there. It was all in order, she was thankful for that, at least. She couldn't fathom being trapped anywhere without this.

Sarasael took a deep breath. In two weeks the moon would be full, and it was at that time…the full and new moon…that it was easier to use communication powder, because one of the plants that was used in it bloomed during those two times. It also meant the connection would be open longer.

She could last in this world for two weeks. She didn't know how, but somehow she would. Her mother had always told her ever since she was young to try and make the best of everything. Lady Inari was an eternal optimist and managed to instill…sometimes even force…that sense of optimism in all of her children. There were two weeks and she could hold out for that long. She would just have to…to…try to think of it as an adventure, a learning experience, a…like, a study abroad program. A lot of Mayharran graduates went to other parts of the world to study. She was just doing her graduate program many years early, and in a different world altogether. She'd be the first one to ever do it. It'd be something great that she could bring back to the other students. Hylaea would love to hear about other worlds, and the other girls! Sarasael would be _the_ most popular girl in Mayharran, hands down. They'd want to hear of her adventures for months.

There, it didn't look so bad if you looked at it from that viewpoint. It seemed much smaller, the idea that she'd only be here for two weeks. Two weeks was an adventure. Any longer…

No, no, not any longer. The magistrate had said two weeks and the magistrate could do anything. Past that, Sarasael didn't even want to bother to plan.

"But…I dunno where to stay," It was the last thing on her mind after her long thought process. There wasn't a dormitory or anything here, not as far as she could tell.

"We figured that out already while you were sleeping." Rowan said soothingly. "Gorbak…you stayed with him the other night, remember?" Sarasael nodded. "He and the others…we've all decided to pitch in and build you a small section attached to his house, a living space of your own. He has generously offered his house to this cause. You're not a witch, and after yesterday…"

"We're all feeling a bit guilty," Twitternut admitted. "For calling you a witch and whatnot, since this is not your world."

"We've had people from other worlds." Runningwind added. "Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, from the world of men. They have come to us in the past and have done great things. We will treat you with the same kindness we have shown them. It is only right, as we are honest and good Narnians."

"We have started planning, and we're going to be building…I think the dwarves are working on it right now. Be welcome among us in Narnia, dear child. Be welcome."

Sarasael couldn't help but smile. These were awfully nice people, and they were making her welcome despite her foreignness. "Thanks," she said. "Thank you all so much."

"It is the least we can do," Rowan answered.

This was looking much better than it had before. These people in this world were very nice…she couldn't have asked for a better world to fall into, she thought. This would be an adventure…a grand adventure that she couldn't wait to tell everyone else.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Her own little section was added to Gorbak's home within the same day, and before long, she was sleeping and actually feeling comfortable there. Two days passed without notice, and Sarasael took that time to learn more about the world that she found herself in. She looked at maps and realized with a shudder that the place she had appeared first in…the old ruined castle…once belonged to the person that Twitternut had called the White Witch. The Witch had died hundreds of years ago and her castle was abandoned, and no one had been in there since. The Witch had been a horrible wicked tyrant with great magic, which was why everyone had been terrified when Sarasael appeared wearing her mantle, thinking she was the incarnation of that vicious person, or so Rowan told her.

Narnia wasn't the only country here, she learned. There was a place to the south called Calormen, but they all assured her that she didn't want to go there, for it was an awful place full of dark-skinned people who worshipped a fearful god called Tash, and was ruled by a man called the Tisroc. There was a nicer land called Archenland just before Calormen, and they all told Sarasael that she should visit there someday. To the north…further north, past the Witch's castle, was Ettinsmoor and the Wild Lands of the North. Most of it was unexplored, except for a ruined giant city and the giant's stronghold, Harfang. But Harfang wasn't very important; nothing had been done there as far as anyone could remember. The giants just lived there and bothered no one, and everyone said it was best to avoid them anyway.

Narnia was a large land and had a lot of history behind it, despite having only been around a little longer than Tahalset was. She wanted very much to go find a library somewhere and read more on its history, but the only library nearby, she was told, was in the great city of Cair Paravel. The monarchs of this land…King Caspian and his queen…lived and reigned there. None of Sarasael's companions had ever been to Cair Paravel but were determined to make it there someday.

Five days later, Sarasael decided for the first time to venture further out of the woods and onto the plains beyond it. She wanted to see what sort of plants this world had, and which ones, if any, she could use. It was only two weeks of course, but it would be good to know.

The first thing that caught her eye was a small oak tree that was planted seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It was an oak, just like most of the ones in the forest, except separated from the rest. Sarasael reached out to pluck several leaves off of a branch, then sat down underneath it.

She sat down and took off her belt. She took a small bowl that she had brought with her and sprinkled just a little of her generic powder into it. She ripped the leaves in pieces and set them on top of the powder for the moment until she could get a fire going to dry them out. It wouldn't take that long, just a little experiment to pass the time.

She reached out to take the bowl, when suddenly a loud crashing sound was heard above her. She threw herself to the side just in time for a large branch to come crashing down on her bowl, followed by someone else falling after. The person landed on the branch _and_ her bowl, on his back, letting out a loud and undignified, "Ow!"

Sarasael sat up, narrowly avoiding a shower of dead leaves and bugs.

"Er…" She said, peering curiously over at the person who had fallen.

"Ow. Ow, curse this _tree_, there's a huge branch in my back…"

Sarasael stood up, brushing the worst of the mess off of her. She looked over at the person who had fallen. He had covered his face with his hands and was in what looked like a painful position on the ground.

"Need a hand?" Sarasael offered, holding her hand out.

"Thanks," the man took it and she helped him stand. He winced, rubbing his side, then turned to her.

The first thing Sarasael noticed were his eyes. They were a light, clear blue, foreign and sharp. He was really average looking, besides that, with high cheekbones and light hair that hung down to his shoulders. Really, he looked…at least to Sarasael…a thousand times nicer and better than the boys from Mayharran Boys' School. Nicer, yes, but…but similar. He obviously wasn't a dwarf. He looked more like a person from Tahalset than anyone else she met, though granted, she hadn't met many people.

He shook his head vigorously and then looked at the fallen branch again. Then he looked back at Sarasael, who was still covered with branch material. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh…by the Lion's mane, I am _so_ sorry!" He exclaimed. His voice was light and pleasant. "I really didn't meant to…well, to fall out of the tree like that. In fact, I had no idea that you were sitting underneath it. People usually don't do that. Sit under the tree, I mean…not fall out of it. Well, people don't usually fall out of it _either_, but you know, I wasn't expecting anyone to be underneath the tree when I fell, but I wasn't expecting to fall either. Am I making sense? At all?"

Sarasael couldn't help but grin. She liked this man straightaway, he reminded her vaguely of Hylaea, and this other fellow she had met once at a dance. Only he seemed nicer and had this way of talking that sounded a lot like her own when she got really nervous. "I actually understand you." She answered.

"Well that's good at least. I just ask you to accept my apology for my rude interruption and any harm I may have caused…are you hurt at all?"

"No, I'm fine." She replied. "But you look hurt. You look like you landed in an awkward way."

"Ugh. Yeah. A bit." He rubbed his back. "Landed hard, I think I've gotten too big for this tree. I always climbed it when I was younger and it held my weight. I think I hurt my back or something. But you're alright, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine." Sarasael insisted.

"Will you accept my humble apologies, then? For…"

"Dropping in on me like this?"

"Yeah. Sorry. And that was a rather bad joke."

"It was," she agreed.

"But bad jokes or not, this was very rude of me, so I must apologize." He bowed to her, and it was the first time in her life that anyone did.

"Oh, don't do that!" Sarasael exclaimed, waving her hand. "Bowing. That's just weird. I'm just a Mayharran schoolgirl, okay?"

He straightened up again. "Well, it's the way I've always been taught to apologize. We have to be honourable, chivalrous and good. It is the way of a prince of Narnia."

"A prince!" Sarasael took a step back. At home, the monarchs of Tahalset were many miles and cities away from Mayharran. Sarasael had never seen them, they were always distant figures that one heard about on the news but never actually met. Tahalset did have a prince…at least she thought they did. Might have had two, but she never paid attention.

Sarasael dropped to her knees and bowed her head, holding her hands over her head in what looked like a praying position. "My lord," she said.

The man blinked. "What _are_ you doing?" he asked, bewildered.

She looked up. "Giving you my respects."

"Oh, don't!" He waved his hand in the air, dismissing the bow. "I'm Narnian, and Narnian princes associate with their subjects all the time. We're not horrible and cold like those Calormene Tisrocs or whatever they're called."

Sarasael stood up, and of course now her whole skirt was covered in mess. The prince held out a hand.

"My name's Rilian," he said. "Son of King Caspian, tenth of that name, king of Narnia, and his queen from beyond the eastern edge of the world." That was a lengthy title. Sarasael had never met anyone with a title that long. Especially not someone who was nice.

"Sarasael Inari," She answered, taking his hand and shaking it. "With nowhere near a title as impressive of yours. I'm a second year student at Mayharran Girls' School, in Tahalset. That's nowhere in Narnia, before you ask."

"Really?" He actually looked interested, which was weird too, because Sarasael always had the idea that nobility weren't interested in anything that common people had to say. "From another world! Like the High Kings and Queens of old. Are you from their world?"

"Where's that?"

"I don't know. My father knew all the old kings…Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, from the world of men. Are you from there? That would be marvelous."

"I don't think so," Sarasael answered. "I'm just a citizen of Tahalset." She didn't want to tell him that she was an enchantress, remembering other people's reactions to that.

"Oh. Too bad. I've always wanted to meet a Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve, like my father did. Maybe someday, right?"

Rilian winced again as he turned.

"Well, maybe you will…oh, you look very much hurt, why don't you sit down there?" she pointed to a spot close to the trunk of the tree where no debris had fallen. She had put her belt there and thankfully the tree branch hadn't hit it.

"I think I will." Rilian answered. He walked over and sat down on the grass, and Sarasael sat next to him, taking her belt. "I definitely landed wrong. Sorry about that."

"You've apologized three times already. And you're a prince and I'm a commoner, so just to let you know, it's really weird to have nobility apologize to me. They don't do that back at home."

"Your home must not be a very nice place," Rilian said with a frown, but then realized his mistake when Sarasael turned her head away. "Did I say something? I'm sorry, for whatever I just said."

"Four times," Sarasael answered, holding up four fingers, then turning back to smile. "No, I'm sorry. I really am not supposed to be here, in your Narnia. Some sort of magical accident took me out of my world and put me here…I don't know what it is and no one back home does. I'm going to contact them again soon and by that point they'll probably be able to bring me home. But it really is a nice place, where I'm from…Tahalset. It's warmer and there's lots of palm trees and lagoons."

"Ooh, palm trees. That does sound nice. Very tropical."

"It is tropical." Sarasael took her belt and began rummaging through the pouches. "You're still hurt. Hold on a minute."

"Why, what are you doing? Are you a healer?"

"No, but my friend and I have gotten ourselves in enough trouble for the headmistress to allow me to make…ah, here." She opened the pouch that contained a sparkling red powder. "This. I oughtn't be using any of these right now…but you really do look hurt, and I feel bad about that. Plus it is my duty as a commoner to honor nobility, no matter where they are from. Turn and face me, okay?"

It was now Rilian's turn to be bewildered. "Why, what are you going to do?"

"You just have to trust me. We do this all the time back home, it's nothing to be worried about." Rilian obeyed, turning to face her. "Hold still." She ordered. She took a little of the red powder in her hand. "I'm going to throw this at you and say something. After I say something, breath in really hard."

"Very well…" Rilian still looked confused, but shrugged. She looked like she knew what she was doing.

Sarasael took the powder and blew and spoke the words. Rilian breathed in like he was told, and held his breath for several seconds, which was even better because it gave the powder more time to take affect. That was smart of him. When he released his breath, he looked back at her with a look of surprise.

"I feel better now!" he said. "I don't feel hurt anymore. And certainly not like I fell out of a tree. That's not…you didn't do witchcraft, did you?" he added suspiciously, for even though this girl didn't seem to him like the witchy type, he was always taught to be cautious.

"I'm not a _witch!_" She exclaimed in frustration. "And it's not _witchcraft_. I ought to just go around with a sign hanging around my neck saying that or something. I'm an enchantress and that just regular magic. Healing magic, that was my healing powder I used on you. And I'll ask you not to call me a witch again, it's a very insulting term from where I am from."

"Oh! Goodness, I am sorry, I didn't mean to insult you." And what got her most of all was that he sounded honest and genuine about it. He looked a lot like someone from Mayharran but they usually weren't that nice…odds are, if she said the same thing to a Mayharran boy, he'd argue right back and it would end in a loud fight and someone coming to separate them…hence why there was a Boys' School and Girls' School in Mayharran. Boys never apologized. Yet here was this person…a _prince_ of all people, being all chivalrous and polite and generally challenging everything Sarasael ever learned about both royalty _and_ boys.

"That would be five." She said, closing the pouch. "And you really should stop apologizing."

"I'm just being polite. Polite, that's all. And redundant."

"Very redundant," she agreed.

There were a few exclamations and shouts from a ways off. Sarasael peered around the trunk to see several men on horses playing some sort of game. They looked like they were having a lot of fun.

"What's that?" Sarasael asked.

"What's what?" Rilian leaned over to see, then caught sight of the men. "Oh, that's just some friends of my father. I'm riding with them today." He sounded quite proud of that fact. "My father never…well, he let me ride with them before but it was always when he was there, or my mother was there. He let me go with them myself, and we've traveled over almost all of Narnia. I'm seventeen now and my father wanted me to see the entirety of the lands for myself." Now he looked _extremely_ proud of himself.

"Oh. Well, that's good."

"You sound puzzled."

"Well…" she figured might as well be honest. "I have absolutely no idea where Cair Paravel is."

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "Of course you wouldn't. You already said you're not from Narnia…here, let me show you. I've got a map on me somewhere…I've been keeping it for the whole ride. We've finally made it here to the Shuddering Wood, we're going to stay with the centaurs tonight." He began rummaging around his person, searching for a map. "I totally have a map here, I'm so disorganized, just great…" finally he located the map, and took it out, unfolding it. It was a carefully crafted map of Narnia, and he spread it out on the ground so he could show her. "We're here," He said pointing to the Shuddering Wood. "And Archenland is just beyond here. There's a pass into Archenland here. And tonight, my father's friends and I are staying with the centaurs here."

"Right." She looked closely at the map, trying to memorize it as much as she could so she'd know her way around.

"Past here…further north is the dancing lawn, you should visit there someday. It's a great place where the fauns and the dryads come out during the summer and they dance all night…I went a few years ago and it was really exciting. There's also Aslan's How…my father hid out there when he fled his wicked uncle Miraz who was going to kill him. Up here is the Great Wood…there's the Great River, too, and here…Cair Paravel!" he pointed to a large drawing of a city on the coast.

"That _is_ far from here," Sarasael noted, looking at the vast distance between the Wood and Cair Paravel. "Why'd you travel so far? And how long did it take you?"

Rilian shrugged. "Took us awhile. We stayed at Beruna one night, and in the Great Wood another, you know. Just all over, until we came here. I'm not sure if we're going to visit Archenland or not. I wanted to see more of Narnia by myself, you know? My father had a very adventurous youth and he would rather have me stay closer to home or with him and mother where I won't have to worry about much until I get older. But now that I'm seventeen, he figured that I'd better see the rest of Narnia for myself, so that when I'm king, I'll know the lands and the people."

"Oh." Sarasael's eyes traveled further up the map until she saw the place where the ruins of the Witch's castle was marked. It was even further than Cair Paravel…she had come a long way. A _really_ long way. "Your father…you keep talking about him. He must be a really important king. More than most kings, that is. Most kings are really boring and we have to learn treaties they made and stuff." It was the worst part of history. Names. Dates. Treaties. More names, more treaties…

"He did a _lot_. It would take forever for me to tell you all of the things he did…that happened to him…but he's king of Narnia right now and that's what's really important. But he did a lot. Everyone knows who he is…Caspian the Seafarer, they call him. He's such a kind and wise king and has traveled so far and seen so much of the world…he sailed all the way to the eastern end of the world, almost into Aslan's country."

Sarasael had no idea what Aslan was or really anything that Rilian was talking about. But his father did seem really important, especially if Rilian kept talking about him. A lot.

"That's really great, you know. To have a father like that." She replied. "But…that must be awfully hard for you. Because…he was just so great and stuff. You must have a lot to live up to." The words just kind of came out and she regretted them almost immediately. That was the sort of thing she'd say to Hylaea at night, after light's out, when they'd whisper to each other stuff that they'd normally never say in public during the day. It _wasn't_ the sort of thing one said to random royalty, under a tree.

Rilian clearly thought so, too, because he gave her a very surprised look. "I guess so." He answered, his voice light and startled. He paused a second before saying, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. It's…it's…you know." He shrugged uncomfortably. "It is a lot. My father did a lot and I guess…a lot of people expect that from me, too. By the time he was sixteen…only a year younger than me…he was already tangled up in this web of politics with his uncle and the Old Narnians and…yeah. It's complicated and you'd be bored if I told you about it now. But when he was sixteen he was all up in this secret rebellion thing. And…well, I'm just kind of…here. Being his son. Just, Rilian, son of Caspian. That's it. That's the only notable thing I ever did, and really I didn't even _do _anything." Then he got the same look she had a moment ago, and stopped talking immediately. Because that was the sort of thing that one kept to _themselves_ and didn't go blurting out to random girls they just met when falling out of a tree.

There was a long awkward moment. Sarasael looked down at the grass and pulled up a few stalks, and Rilian looked up at the tree. "Um." Sarasael said. She hated uncomfortable silences…who didn't…but couldn't think of anything to say.

"I hate uncomfortable silences," Rilian said.

She turned to look at him in amazement. "I was just thinking that."

He blinked. "Were you really? Wow. That was…"

"Strange?"

"Yeah."

There was another pause, and Sarasael looked down on the map. "Um…Ettinsmoor," it was the first name she saw when glancing back at the map. "Is that part of Narnia?"

"Sort of," Rilian answered, and the awkward silence was broken. "It's technically part of Narnia, but not really. It's the wild lands of the north…we have no idea what's there. Just Harfang, the giant's city, but no one ever goes there. Harfang giants are nasty. They _eat_ people…and Animals."

"Ew. That's _wrong_, how can anyone eat people? Or Animals?" She thought of the Animals she had met and couldn't ever imagine doing something so despicable.

"That's the giants for you. Harfang is horrid and uncivilized…I'm definitely not going _there_."

"Yeah, don't, it doesn't look like a nice place to go at all."

"Definitely. Say…that powder you threw at me…it healed me, right? What exactly is it? I've never seen anything like that before."

Now _this_ was something Sarasael knew. She could explain all about the workings of Tahalset enchantress magic, and…well, she rather wanted to. It was something that she knew and he didn't, and she could stop being the one asking all the questions.

"It did heal you. Here, I can explain it…just give me a minute." She took out her reference book, which was in a separate pouch. It had all the ingredients and instructions for making most of the powders that were used. "Let me get my book here and show you. Ah…it's…here." She flipped through the pages until she got to the one for healing powder. "It's one of the more difficult ones to produce."

"Produce?"

"Yeah, in Tahalset we use powders to do all our magics. It's kind of like…"

But she was interrupted by a loud call from one of the men. "Prince Rilian!" A deeper, older voice called. "Where are you?"

"I'm here! Hold on a minute!" Rilian called back. "That's one of the men…he wants me for something…I'll be right back,"

"Sure. You want me to wait?"

"Could you?"

"No problem."

"Thanks." Rilian ducked out from under the tree. Sarasael watched him go, and wondered what in Yarrin's name just happened. He was high nobility, the prince of this land, heir to the throne. Nobility like that were cold and distant and didn't associate with common people like her, yet here he was, doing just that. And he wasn't cold and snobby, he was really nice and it was just…well, _strange_, to say it yet again. She really liked him and she wasn't supposed to like nobility. But he was nice to her and he was just so easy to talk to, and he must have thought so too, telling her what he did. Rilian…it was an odd, foreign name, didn't have the same lightness and trill that most Mayharran names did. But she didn't mind that either.

"Sorry," Rilian said, pushing aside the leaves and coming back to sit next to her. "We're leaving really soon. He wants to make it to where the centaurs are by nightfall so we can stay with them. They're all ready for us, I think one of them is going to explain to me some of their astrology."

"Astrology…we have that, too. I was born under the Snake, that's my starform."

"Your what?"

"Starform…anyone who is an enchanter can transform into the animal that they were born under. My best friend Hylaea can shapeshift into a cheetah, and myself, a snake. Just a little green snake, and I'm not very good at doing shapeshifting yet."

"Well shapeshifting is odd…I've never seen anyone do it. Can you show me?"

"Sure!" She stood up, but then one of the men called for Rilian again.

Rilian sighed. "They definitely want me to go now. Say…you know, that whole shapeshifting thing sounds really interesting, I've never heard of that before. Are you going to be here long?"

"What, here in the Wood?"

"Yeah."

"Um…for a little longer, yeah. In just over a week I have to contact my people again and they're going to bring me home. Why?"

"Well, I wanted to stop by and see you again before we head back to Cair, or wherever else we're going after the centaurs. I want to see your shapeshifting, and you still have to explain your magic to me, and…I'm going to want my map back." He added.

"Here," she said, slightly lost, handing him the map.

"No, keep it for now. You've never been to Narnia and have no idea where anything is. So you might as well keep the map for now and study it. I'll come back and get it and by then you'll have learned about Narnia, and in return you can tell me about Tahalset. Then I can know something about another world, too. Something that my father doesn't know." There, he did it again. Why _was_ he telling her this, she wondered?

"Thanks," She said, folding the map and putting it in the pouch with the book. "Thank you. Really, you're all too kind here in this world, I am going to sort of miss it when I go back. It's really interesting."

"You'll just have to learn more before you go then, right?"

"Right!"

"_Rilian!"_ a voice yelled again.

"I'm coming!" He shouted back. "Yeah. They're a bit impatient. Just nervous, they don't want anything to happen to me. Not that it would, Narnia is free of all evil right now. So…um…I think we're heading back in a few days, because we'll spend some time with the centaurs. Will you be here in three days?"

"Same time? And under the tree?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I will." She replied, nodding. "I definitely will. I'll wait for you."

"Thanks!" And he grinned at her, and looked even nicer when he grinned. His eyes sparkled, too…she noticed that even more now than she did before. "I'll see you then." He turned and left, before the men could call for him again.

Sarasael stood up and walked around the tree, leaning against it as she watched him ride off with the others. In only a few days she was transported to a new world, met the magistrate (even if it was only through a fire), lived in a dwarf's house, and met someone that had to be the nicest person she met since Hylaea. He wanted to see her again and she wanted to see him too, and she couldn't help but think that this was _definitely_ the strangest week in her entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

((Many thanks to the reviewers! It is much appreciated. Dearheart, I am quite glad, because I always worry about my...well, generally I don't write female main characters so since this is one of the rare times I have, I worry about them. And I guess I worry especially much since this story has been written/edited/written again/etc for two years and I've had far too much time to sit around and think and worry about them :P))

They did meet, three days later, just like they promised. Rilian was interested in Tahalset magic, and Sarasael was more than enthusiastic to show him. He didn't have the talent for it, but he was able to actually make the happiness powder work, something that delighted them both. Sarasael never saw anyone who didn't have magic make it work, and Rilian was thrilled that he got a foreign bit of magic to work and it wasn't bad magic at all. The idea that one could create happiness and distill it into a powder seemed ridiculous, but Sarasael explained that there was very little that really good enchanters couldn't do. It was the easiest of the powders to make, too, because it was so positive and wanted to be used to create more positive energy.

She told him also of Mayharran school. She was sixteen and it was her second year there. She was nearly done with her second year…and after that, only two more years until she could graduate and go to university. She told him about Hylaea, her best friend, and how the two of them were going to graduate top of their class and get into the best university. Outside of Mayharran, of course, because Mayharran wasn't a city and they wanted to go to school in the city. There they could meet all sorts of people and learn new things, and the school would be coed too which Hylaea really wanted. She was getting sick of being around all girls, _all_ the time. He especially wanted to her about Mordian, her brother, because he had no siblings of his own. "You're not missing much, really," Sarasael had said. "My brother is an idiot." Which led to her telling him all the stories of the stupid things her brother had done (she had plenty of stories about that), and a lot of them were really great stories that had the two of them laughing by the end.

In return, Rilian told her all about Narnia. He told her about his father, King Caspian, and how he fled his wicked uncle Miraz who had usurped the throne…how eventually Caspian took over and brought old Narnia back to life. He told her all the history he knew, with the hundred years' winter and the Golden Age, right through his father's voyage on the _Dawn Treader_ to the eastern end of the world. It was fascinating to hear history so different from her own, yet so similar, because back home she had the Ten Voyages of Tiendra, a figure in all Tahalset legends.

Rilian ended up convincing the men to let him stay with Twitternut and the others for a few more days so he could learn more about this area, though really he just wanted to spend more time with Sarasael. There was so much still left to say…she wanted to hear more about the hundred years' winter, and he wanted to hear about Tiendra because they didn't have a folk hero like that here in Narnia. Everyone they told stories about here was real. He also told her about Aslan, the real king of Narnia…a lion (but not a tame lion) who was kind, wise, and just, and loved everyone in Narnia. She told him about Yarrin, the chief of the eight Tahalset gods…Yarrin was a great golden eagle and reminded her a lot of Aslan. He too was kind and just and cared for Tahalset citizens. "Perhaps then we are not so different," She remarked to Rilian.

The rest of the two weeks passed quicker than Sarasael had thought. She spent most of the days with Rilian, under the tree or somewhere else, just wandering around and talking. He wasn't like anyone she'd ever known before.

Eventually the two weeks were up. Sarasael woke up late in the day and remember then with a jolt that the time had passed already, and it was time to open the connection again.

"I'm going home today!" she said excitedly to Rilian at lunch. "Tonight. I'm going to open the connection and the magistrate…she can do anything, you know…she's going to bring me home. I can't wait to go home…I want to see Hylaea again and tell her everything I learned about Narnia. And everyone in school, too. And mum, I miss mum. And Mordian is going to be terribly jealous of me."

"And I am sure everyone will want to hear of your time here." Rilian said.

"They will." She said smugly. "And I will be popular than the fourth years, they think they know everything because they're graduating. Well now I know something…lots of things…they don't. Would you mind terribly if I mentioned you?"

"Of course not! Then I could say I was…well not the _first_, but one of the few Narnians to be talked about in another world. But…we'll still keep in touch, right? Will you write to me once you go back home?"

"Well, I dunno how," she admitted. "I got into this world by accident. I don't know if we can do it…but…hey yeah!" she sat up straighter. "If they can bring me back, which they'll totally be able to do, it means they can open a connection between worlds. They'll probably let me use it, too, because I've been out of the world…ooh so they're going to be asking my advice about it and _everything_…and of course I'll write to you."

That night, Sarasael bid farewell to all the people she had stayed with, thanking them greatly for their hospitality. She then sat down in the same clearing and started a fire, holding her communication powder in her lap. Rilian had decided to stay with her and see her off, and he wanted to get a glimpse of her world. She took a deep breath and threw the powder, saying the words strongly and clearly. There was a flicker, and promptly the Mayharran Girls' second year dorm room came into view. It was fuzzy but obviously there, and…it was…dark?

"Is that your room?" Rilian asked.

"Yeah, it's the dorm…I dunno why it's so dark though. They said two weeks…and it's been two weeks. Hello?" She called into the fire.

A face appeared, and it wasn't Hylaea's face. It was the face of Aneta, one of the first years. What was a first year doing in _her_ dorm room?

"Hello? Aneta?" Sarasael said in bewilderment. "What are you doing in my dorm? Is Hylaea letting you stay?"

Aneta peered into the fire and looked really, really confused. Then she looked terrified and pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle an exclamation. "Ghosts!" she heard Aneta cry out. "There's ghosts in my room! Jazzarael, wake up! The ghost of Sarasael is _in our dorm room!_"

There was a scream and the light turned on, and Sarasael could see Jazzarael…another first year…come into view. "Oh, Yarrin save us all!" Jazzarael cried. "And there's another ghost with her! We're doomed, Aneta, doomed!" the girls clung to each other in terror.

"Um…" Sarasael honestly had no idea what to say to this. She looked at Rilian and he looked back at her, equally confused, even moreso because he had no idea what was going on. "Aneta? It's just me," Sarasael said. "What are you doing in me and Hylaea's dorm? You're still a first year."

Aneta and Jazzarael exchanged looks. "No, we're second years, oh fearsome apparition," Aneta said, going down on her knees before the fire. "We've moved into the second year's dorm two months ago, of course. Do not harm us, honourable spirit!"

"I'm not a spirit, guys. It's just me. The magistrate told me to contact you again in two weeks and…wait, you're second years? You were first years two weeks ago."

"We've been second years for the past two _months_," Jazzarael said with equal puzzlement. "Aneta, go get the headmistress and tell her there is a _ghost_ in our room." Aneta nodded and scuttled out of the room. Jazzarael didn't say anything more, just sat mute and terrified at the fire.

Sarasael felt Rilian's hand on her arm. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Those girls were first years when I saw them last, and now they're in my dorm. It's only been two weeks, right?" He nodded in confirmation.

Aneta appeared with the headmistress, pointing accusingly at the fire. "The ghost of Sarasael is haunting our room," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, having gotten over her terror. "She's come back from the dead and remembers that this used to be her dorm. Could you make her go away, please?"

"Aneta, why are you making up such nonsense stories…Miss Inari?" the headmistress looked at the fire in shock, her eyes widening.

"Um, good evening, headmistress," Sarasael said respectively. "It's been two weeks…"

"Two weeks! Miss Inari…you're still alive?"

"Yeah…why wouldn't I be? It's only been two weeks, you guys told me to contact you again and I did. I'm alive…I didn't die or anything…it's really nice here."

"No, no, no, this is…Miss Inari, it has been six months."

Sarasael blinked. "What? That's impossible."

"I assure you, it isn't. Six months have passed…when you didn't contact us after two weeks, then a month, then two months…we all assumed you were dead, for we do not know what goes on in the other worlds, and we couldn't reach into the one that you're in. Hylaea is a third year now…fetch Hylaea for me, Jazzarael…they are second years. Your mother was worried sick, they were all so terrified when we had told them you were most likely dead. Why did you not contact us?"

"Because…only two weeks passed." Sarasael stammered. "Here, it's just been…oh, tell her, Rilian!"

Rilian didn't know the headmistress but he did know that Sarasael was getting really flustered, and spoke up. "I can vouch for that," He said, putting on his best royal voice. "And I am Prince Rilian, son of King Caspian, tenth of that name, heir to the throne of Narnia. And I can vouch for the honesty of this lady's words."

The headmistress stared at him, and Rilian scooted back slightly from the fire, whispering to Sarasael, "Does she always look at people like that?" Sarasael nodded.

"Well. Oh dear, this…Hylaea, good, you've come." Hylaea shoved the headmistress aside, much to Sarasael's shock, and stuck her face so close to the fire that it looked like she was going to go right through it.

"Sara? Oh, gods, Sara!" Hylaea cried. "You're alive, I don't believe it. When we didn't get your communication no one knew what to say…your mum fainted and even your _brother_ was panicking, and…gods I was so lost…I had no idea what to do without you there. Then months past…we all thought you were dead because you never contacted us. It's been forever…I'm up in the third year's dorm now, had to give up our dorm to these second years. But…but you're really alive, I can't believe it, I'm so glad to see you again!" She started to reach her arms through the fire, but yelped when they just got burned.

"Well, it's been two weeks here. Honestly. It really has."

"I believe you." Hylaea said quickly, because she still considered Sarasael her best friend, despite the time having passed.

"Yeah. But, I can catch up with six months of work and become a third year with you in no time. It'll just take a lot of extra studying but I can totally do it."

There was a long pause on their side, and the headmistress looked away from Sarasael. So did Hylaea. "What?" Sarasael said.

"Er…" Hylaea bit her lip hard.

"Miss Inari, we presumed you dead after a month. The magistrate and her group worked hard for two weeks, but at the end of two weeks still hadn't discovered anything. After two months, you were declared dead and the project discontinued."

This time it was Sarasael's turn to stare. She felt Rilian's hand tighten on her arm. "So…you…can't bring me back? You still can't bring me back? And…the time differences, gods, there's time differences too." There was a part of the other worlds theory that mentioned that not all the worlds ran on the same time. Some worlds, time passed faster than Tahalset, some less. Narnia was apparently one of the worlds where time passed slower. "There's time differences."

"Clearly there is." The headmistress sighed. "Miss Inari, accept my greatest possible apologies. The project was ended when you were proclaimed as dead, but no progress was made before that, either. This is going to take much longer than we thought. None of us figured in time differences…it was only a theory…well, I assume it's no longer a theory now. I can't think of anything I can say that could possibly make it up to you."

Sarasael shook her head. They couldn't bring her home. She felt a hard lump in her throat and didn't want to say anything because she knew she would start crying. She looked down at the ground away from the fire and closed her eyes, trying to keep calm. Six months had passed. Time went differently in the two worlds. Hylaea was a third year and they still couldn't bring her home. She had…so _expected_ that they would.

"That's right dreadful of you," she heard Rilian's voice from beside her. "I mean…just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean you stop trying. If the same thing happened here in Narnia we'd still keep trying, at least so we could bring their body back and give them a proper Narnian burial. Instead, you just gave up. That's not very honourable at all."

Sarasael looked up and blinked at him in surprise. "What'd you do that for?" she whispered, wondering why he was standing up for her like that. Sure, they'd become friends over the past week or so, but there was a huge difference between friends and…well, having royalty defend her to the headmistress. That just didn't happen.

"It's what friends do," Rilian whispered back, giving her hand a squeeze.

The headmistress scowled. "Listen, prince you may be from that foreign world, but I am the headmistress of Mayharran Girls' School and do not accept that kind of talk from anyone."

"You just don't like it because it's the truth," Rilian countered.

"I will not be spoken to like that!" the headmistress barked. "We…"

"You didn't even think of the times being different, and now have left this poor girl in a foreign world with no care for her own safety because you didn't think enough to even _try_ and bring her back. You gave up straightaway."

"Rilian, shut up," Sarasael hissed, because the headmistress was looking really angry, and Hylaea disbelieving. She at least knew that no one talked back to the headmistress.

"Headmistress," Hylaea stepped in. "This man doesn't know of our world and our customs, so you must forgive his rudeness." She glanced at Sarasael who nodded slightly. Hylaea didn't know who Rilian was, but assumed he couldn't be all that bad if he was Sarasael's friend.

The headmistress still scowled and looked like she was going to break the connection.

"No, don't!" Sarasael cried. "Please don't." The headmistress crossed her arms.

"Headmistress, we can start the project up again." Hylaea said. "After all, we know more information now. The times are different…two weeks there is six months here, we can use that knowledge for something. We know Sarasael is alive and is…well, you're safe, right, Sara?" Sarasael nodded. "Alive and safe and we won't have anything to worry about. And since time passes slower there, it gives us a whole lot more time to work. Say, you…er…what was your name again?"

"Prince Rilian, son of…"

"Yeah, Rilian. You'll keep Sara safe, won't you? Make sure she's okay until we can bring her back here. Which we _will_ do." Hylaea shot a glare at the headmistress. She was a third year now, and had the same annoying overconfidence that third years had, because they knew they were nearly fourth years and could graduate.

"I'll do that, yes." Rilian nodded. "You have my honour as prince of Narnia that nothing bad will happen to Sarasael as long as I am here." He put an arm around her, and Sarasael couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. No one ever said anything like that to her before. Except Hylaea, but it's different with your best friend. She'd known Hylaea for years, and Rilian for not even a month.

"And I'll hold you to that." Hylaea said forcefully. "Because she is my best friend no matter where she is. We're going to bring you back, Sara," Hylaea promised, looking with determination at her friend. "Now that we have this information there's nothing that can stop us. This summer I'm going to do an internship with the magistrate and help her on this project, too. I was going to do that anyway…the internship…but I'll especially do it now."

"Make sure you do," Rilian added.

"I _will_." Hylaea emphasized. "Sara, I promise that we're going to bring you back. You've got my word as your best friend and I'm standing by that."

"What about my mum?" Sarasael finally said. "Can I talk to her?"

"We can't hold the portal open that long." The headmistress interrupted. "Next time, perhaps. We'll synchronize the timelines. Miss Inari, this is an involved project, but one we will do our best to accomplish. How about you contact us again in one of your months?"

"One _month_? Isn't that…a year over by you.?" That idea was too horrifying for Sarasael to fathom. In a year, Hylaea would be a fourth year, getting ready for university…

"It would give us optimum time. A lot can be accomplished in a year. If we are successful before then, we can bring you home before then. So expect anything." The headmistress nodded firmly.

"Anything. Yeah. Of course."

"Come on, heads up, Sara," Hylaea said, trying to be as optimistic as possible. "You're going to know so much by the time you come home that they'll promote you in no time. You'll still graduate with me."

"Yeah. I'm sure I will, I can catch up," Sarasael said, and she really did believe that she could. By looking at Hylaea, it was obvious that she did, too. The fire flickered and died just then…the connection couldn't be held open as long as last time without the magistrate's powers. And with that, she was left more alone than before, now with a growing time difference and everything changing in her world while she stayed here and nothing changed at all. She was only two weeks older, while Hylaea was a third year…and her parents must be so worried. Suddenly the idea of spending more time in Narnia didn't seem so nice anymore. Earlier today it did…but earlier today, it was the prospect of going home again, being a student again, and just sending letters back and forth to Rilian here. But not _this_. "Not _this_. I didn't expect this." She said out loud, not really hearing herself. "I was going home today. They promised me I would." She blinked really hard to try and stop the tears that she knew were coming. It was one thing crying in front of her best friend, another thing…here…in a foreign world with some prince…

"Like she said, you can catch up, right?" Rilian said awkwardly, not knowing what to do, either. He was taught normal things in the palace, like politics and people and history and that sort of thing, but really had no idea in this situation.

"I can, but, she was…I dunno…" the words caught in Sarasael's throat and she really didn't want to say anything else.

"Hylaea's really nice," he shrugged.

"That's because she's my best friend, you'd…you'd really like her if you met her in person. She's really funny. And the magistrate is really smart, just kind of scary, and my mum would bake you cookies or something…" and she giggled. Dammit, she _giggled_. Sarasael couldn't help it. Some people under a lot of stress would scream hysterically, some would chant nonsense, some would get all wobbly-kneed and faint, some would stammer…not Sarasael. She couldn't do anything _normal_ like everyone else did, no, she'd start giggling. There was nothing _funny_ about this situation, yet here she was, laughing like an idiot. And she couldn't stop. She clapped her hand over her mouth but that didn't stop this damned _giggling_.

"What…what are you doing?" Rilian's voice sounded extremely bewildered. Of course, most people don't giggle in situations like this.

"I'm…I'm sorry!" Sarasael said between the bouts of laughter. "I can't…when I'm…nervous…just…" her stomach hurt from laughing so hard and she wanted to just disappear right now. This was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to her and she wasn't even _home_ for it. He was surely going to leave now, get on his fancy royal horse and go back to his home because he'd obviously not want to be associated with some crazy giggling foreign girl.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder. "Sara?" Rilian called softly, using the nickname he heard Hylaea use. "Sara. You're going to be fine, I don't know how I know that but I do, and…and it's not funny, I know that too, just…just…oh, I don't even know what I'm saying! But they're going to bring you back eventually…and I promised that friend of yours that nothing bad would happen to you. I mean it was beyond my control and there's really nothing much I can do about it, but you know, if I could I'd open a portal into your world so you could get home right now. I have no idea how but…if I could, right? I'd do it. I don't want to see you so sad like this. I don't want to see _anyone_ like this, but, especially not you, you know? Oh, I am repeating myself again. I do that when I don't know what to say, I end up saying _everything_ that comes into my mind, no matter how stupid or inane it is, my father always tells me _not_ to do that because kings are supposed to be to the point instead of just saying anything like I'm doing right now, see, I can't stop doing _this_ like you can't stop laughing and I guess we're just very strange people who do very strange things when we get nervous and don't know what else to do and…and…" Now Rilian was just as embarrassed as she was, and things were just going so _bad_ that neither of them had the faintest idea of what to do next.

Sarasael sat up, all manners of twigs now in her hair. She buried her face in her hands. "You should go," she managed to say.

"Go where? Why? Have I been that much of an idiot, are you so annoyed at my blathering on like that…"

"No! I'm just…you're royalty, you shouldn't be seen with…hysterical foreign girls, this is going to look simply dreadful for you if they found you here…"

"Well you know what, I really don't care about _that_." He said forcefully. "You're the only person I've met in all of Narnia that I can act like a complete idiot around…don't deny it…and you don't shake your head at me and go, 'Rilian, that's not at all proper princelike behavior' or something ridiculous like that, and make me do something princelike. It gets so boring doing that, you know?" She didn't, obviously. Impulsively, he took her in his arms and pulled her close. She didn't turn away, either…she leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing her eyes with her hands. "And I promised your friend I was going to take care of you, and I'm going to do just that."

"I've only known you for a little while," she whispered.

"Yeah, but that doesn't really matter, does it? I feel like I've known you forever."

"Me too," she admitted, as strange as it felt saying that.

"And when I make promises, I keep them. It's what we Narnians do. And I don't want to see you so terribly sad like this…tell me what to do to make you feel better and I'll do it," And he meant it, too.

Sarasael shivered in the cold night air. The fire was out and it wasn't going to start again and she was a million miles and this time, a whole different _time_ away from home. She wasn't going to see her friends or family for at least a month, and for them it was going to be more than a _year_. There wasn't anything Rilian could do, not unless he could magically wave his arms and send her home immediately, which was impossible. "I dunno," she whispered. "I don't think there is anything."

"Well, then…"

"I don't know. I have to get back. I have to get to bed." She said, embarrassed and confused and needing to go at least somewhere faintly familiar.

"I'll go back with you, then."

"Okay."

They walked back in silence, staying close together. When they reached Gorbak's house, it took Sarasael a moment to get the door open. What else could go wrong tonight? Now she couldn't even get the cursed _door _open…

"Er. Here." Rilian flicked the lock and jiggled the handle, and then the door opened.

"Yeah. Thanks." She said, going in the house. "I…have to get to bed. Really, I do, I mean it's late and I'm really tired and…and I just do," she finished, feeling very awkward all of a sudden. "So good night."

"Yeah. Good…" Rilian stopped abruptly, looking at the doorknob with a sudden enlightened look on his face.

"What?"

"I…I just got an idea!" He said, looking back at her. "And it's a dreadfully good idea, I'll tell you that."

"What is it?"

"Can't tell you yet. I have to ask Mien first…but I'm sure he'll say yes, because it's that good. But I'll tell you tomorrow, I promise!"

"Er…okay, sure,"

"In fact…I'm going to ask them _right now. _Because I made a promise, and I'll tell you something, Sara, I don't break my promises. Ever." Then he took her hand and covered it with his own. "Okay?"

Not knowing what else to do, she nodded. "Sure," she said, sounding anything but.

"Goodnight, then."

"Yeah, goodnight…"

And before she could say anything more, he turned and walked down the path away from the house. She shook her head and closed the door, pulling on a stray lock of hair, and suddenly wanted to open the door again and yell at him _not _to leave. But he had to because he was the prince and he had other duties to do, but she wanted him there right now and he was _her _friend and that's what her friends were supposed to _do _when she needed them.

She bit her lip and walked through the house to the back, sitting on her small bed. And magistrates were supposed to know everything about magic, and headmistresses were supposed to have all the answers and best friends weren't supposed to get that much older in only a month.

Then tomorrow she'd have to tell Gorbak she had to stay here and she'd be imposing on them even _longer _and she didn't want that but there was nowhere else to go and she really hated that. And for a brief moment in the darkness of the dwarf's house she hated the magistrate, too, and the headmistress, and everyone back in Mayharran who was supposed to help her but thought she was dead and didn't bother.

She pulled the blankets around her and glared at the pillow, then closed her eyes in an attempt to stop being that furious and that horribly sad all at the same time because that certainly didn't make things any easier. But it didn't work, so eventually she stopped trying, and went to sleep instead.


	5. Chapter 5

((My goodness, thank you! Queen of the Unknown, your review startled me very much, but thank you. This was the sort of story that took me so long that all I can remember about writing it was the frustrating moments and the staying-up-until-3am-because-I-have-to-finish-this-scene moments so my perspective is very limited. And Hylaea is "hi lay a", it's actually the name of a dinosaur (hylaeasaurus) in the ankylosaur family and I always thought it was a cool name :P

So the second half of this chapter was a suggestion from my best friend. I still am not happy with it, but my will to actually go around figuring out how to rewrite it by this point is virtually nonexistant. Oh well. Chapter five, my chaps))

If Gorbak was surprised to see Sarasael the next morning, he didn't say anything. Instead he just gave her several pancakes and left it at that. She felt she owed him an explanation, but the pancakes were more important at the moment, and she knew if she tried to say anything, it wouldn't come out making any sense.

"Not home, then?" Gorbak said after all the pancakes were gone and Sarasael still hadn't said a word.

She shook her head and prodded the plate with her fork, swirling the syrup around in patterns on the white china. "They couldn't," she finally forced herself to say. "Didn't know how. I can't go home yet." And the rest of the story was still there, waiting to be said, but she didn't want to say it and kept her mouth shut in case it started making her giggle madly again.

The dwarf's face through his bushy beard was sympathetic. "I am sorry, girl," he said with an awkward pat on the shoulder. "You were looking forward to going back."

"Yeah." And then a moment later, "I really don't want to impose anymore, so if you know if there's…a town or city or something I could go to or…"

"Imposing!" Gorbak snorted. "You're not imposing. Really, it's nice to have company. Stay as long as you want."

She smiled, a very small smile but a smile nonetheless. "Thanks," she said, even though she still planned on finding somewhere else because these people were really nice and she felt bad.

There was a knock on the door and he answered it. She could hear Gorbak and Rilian's voice then, low in discussion. She wondered why he didn't just come in, but then remembered last night and felt even more embarrassed about acting so stupid in front of him and went back to vigorously making shapes with the syrup. And she then remembered that he said he was going back today, and she hated that idea too because then she wouldn't even have someone she considered a close friend here because he'd have to go home. She threw the fork down and stood up, taking the plates to the sink. It was stupid to be mad about him going home, she knew that. But it didn't make that feeling go away, and neither did throwing forks in the sink and listening to them clatter against the plates.

"Sara!" she heard Rilian call. For a moment she didn't even move. "Sara, come here, I have to ask you a question."

Oh, fine. She left the kitchen and walked to the front door. Rilian was standing there with Gorbak, looking…no, grinning…at her.

"So my idea? It was certainly as good as I thought," he said triumphantly, face shining with seventeen year old brilliance, which granted wasn't very much, but it you certainly feel it is when you are seventeen.

"What's that?"

"Alright, listen. I want you to listen to my proposition before you say anything, okay?"

"Okay…"

"I did promise your friend I'd look after you and I can't do that _here_, not when we're leaving today. And you're going to be here for another month…do you really want to spend another month in this Wood? It's a nice wood, but not a proper place for a lady to be. I don't know if I'll be coming this way again in awhile…so here's my idea…how about you come to Cair Paravel with me? I thought this last night, but I had to ask Mien first if you could come with us, and then I did and he said you could, so that's why I'm asking now."

If Sarasael had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't _this._ And he called her a lady, too. "What? Come to…to your city?" She stammered. "But it's far away and your men don't know me either."

"They'll get to know you. I'll introduce you to them." He shrugged. "It's not like it's anything unusual. You're not Calormene, that they'd disagree with. You're nice and pretty and there's really nothing wrong with you at all."

"Yes, but…I couldn't possibly infringe on your hospitality anymore than I already am,"

"You're not infringing on anything because I'm _asking_ you to. Cair Paravel is a huge city and anyone can live there."

"But, I just couldn't,"

"Why not?"

"It's improper for…"

"Common girls to live in the same city with princes? This is Narnia, things work differently here. It's not like you're going to live in the palace with me or anything…you can get an apartment somewhere. There's plenty of places to stay. You can set up a workshop or something with all your powders and do your enchantress magic there…I can get you a special room with a separate fireplace for that."

"But…" He was slowly dismembering any argument she could make. "What about my supplies? I need plants to make the powders with and I don't know how I can obtain them in a city, and I don't know what kind of plants Narnia has either."

"You can purchase the plants…there's vendors that sell all kinds of plants there, and you can ride out into the surrounding area to look for other plants. And there's books, too, books that tell you about all the plants in Narnia. We've had great botanists make a collection…I'll find you something out of the royal library." He crossed his arms and smiled at her.

"Oh…" and she knew it, too. There was absolutely no reason why she couldn't go. "Well then yes, of course I'll go." And she felt happy about it, too.

Rilian laughed joyously. "I knew you would! Oh, just wait until you see it! It's the biggest city in all of Narnia. There's not only the castle where I live, but there's apartments and buildings and street vendors selling all kinds of things. And you'll get to meet more than just dryads, everyone passes through Cair…other dwarves and Archenlanders and all manner of creatures. You won't believe all the things you'll see." Sarasael couldn't help but grin, and when she glanced at Gorbak, he was smiling too.

"I'm only a country girl," she admitted. "I've never been in a city before. Mayharran doesn't count…it's just a suburb, I was going to go to university in the city but haven't been there yet."

"Well, wait until you see Cair, then. You'll be amazed at everything. It's so huge and by the sea, too, and sometimes at night you can hear the merpeople singing. Not that you should venture there of course, merpeople are dangerous…but wait until you hear them sing. It's one of the prettiest things ever. Now I'm going to tell them you said you'd come and I'll be right back!" he turned and ran away from the house.

"Well, then," Gorbak said, running a hand over his beard. "I think that's a good thing for you, don't you? I've always wanted to see Cair myself, so I expect you to write to us and tell us all about it, hey? Don't go forgetting your friends here."

Friends. Sarasael smiled at that, feeling the last of her earlier anger dissipate. See, it was possible to make friends here.

"I'm going to get my things,"

Gorbak nodded, and Sarasael went back into her room and gathered the few things she had. She made the bed and made sure everything was neat before she left.

"Thank you, Gorbak!" she said to the dwarf, and then in the manner of Mayharran farewells, bent over and kissed the dwarf on the cheek. "You've been so good to me. I won't forget you!"

The dwarf shook his head and chuckled. "Can't forget you either, girl. Good luck with your travels. And I expect you to write. And say goodbye to Rowan, will you?"

"I will!" She said, and then walked out the door to find the dryad. She went to her tree and waited until Rowan showed up a few minutes later.

"Child?" Rowan's voice was bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you and the others," Sarasael answered. "I wanted to really thank you all before I go."

"You are going home now? I thought you left last night. So did we all."

Sarasael looked slightly past Rowan's head at the trees beyond. She still didn't want to think about that at all, much less tell them. But she owed Rowan honesty, as the dryad had been nothing but kind to her since the start. And now with the promise of going to Cair Paravel, it seemed easier to speak, and easier to tell Rowan about what happened last night.

"Oh child, I am terribly sorry," Rowan said sympathetically. "You are welcome to stay longer with us. It is dreadful this must take place, so far from your home, with them unable to bring you back."

"Well…" Sarasael bit her lip. "I was just going to say that…well, thanks for your offer, but I'm…" she was barely able to contain her enthusiasm at this point. "But I'm going to Cair Paravel!" She exclaimed. Sarasael was a born optimist, or at least she tried to be. Normal people would have been devastated by this point…worlds away from their home and family with no hope of return for awhile yet, and with the knowledge that everything was going to change when she went back. Sarasael knew this in the far back of her mind, but didn't dwell on it. Dwelling on it would only bring despair, and she'd fall so far into despair that she'd be unable to come out again. Instead, she chose to focus her mind on the good things in this situation…and the biggest of all were the fact that she, a mere Mayharran schoolgirl, was going to the largest city in this world with a prince who she was already great friends with, even after only this small time. And she would be going home in the end. After all, it was her world and her family and her people and they _would _find a way to bring her back.

"Cair Paravel?" Rowan looked surprised. "Have you decided this on yourself, to go see it?"

"No, I was invited," She tried to suppress a grin. "Prince Rilian invited me to come to Cair with him and I'm going to go." No, there was the stupid grin. Right there. It didn't go away.

"Cair? That's…that's wonderful!" Rowan smiled joyously. "I haven't been there, nor has anyone else here…but I have heard _such_ stories. You will love it there, child. And the prince is very kind to invite you."

"I know," Sarasael answered happily. "I can't wait to go. I've never been to a city before and he's already told me some of the stories. I'll write to you and tell you what it's like!"

"That would be wonderful," The dryad said. "We've not been out of our wood, we're simple folk here and would love to hear your city stories. My best wishes for you."

"Sara? Are you here?"

"Yes!" Sarasael called back to Rilian, who came into the clearing where they were. "I was just saying goodbye to Rowan."

He bowed to the dryad in greeting. "Most honourable dryad of these woods, I thank you for your hospitality and for the care of my lady Sarasael," He rested a hand on Sarasael's shoulder.

"Never a problem, my prince," Rowan replied. "Sarasael, it was wonderful to have you with us. Best of luck in Cair, and do tell us how it is!" The dryad pulled Sarasael into a quick hug before Rilian indicated that they had to leave. She waved to Rowan and followed Rilian back through the trees.

The men were all in a circle, and there were only three of them. She had gotten the impression that he came with many others but there weren't. They were tall and wore clothes and a chest plate which had a lion emblazoned on it. Aslan…Sarasael remembered Rilian talking about Aslan, the king of all Narnia. He didn't look at all like Yarrin…the rampant lion on the shield was nothing like the golden eagle that was Tahalset's chief god…but there was something familiar about Aslan that she knew reminded her something of Yarrin.

The men looked at her in surprised, and she curtsied. "My lords," she said respectfully.

"This is Lady Sarasael Inari, from the city of Mayharran in the world of Tahalset." Rilian said, taking her arm. "She is respectful and honest, and she is lost in this world and has nowhere to go. She has been separated from her family." The men glanced at each other. "I have told you about her and wish for her to accompany me to Cair. She can live there, too." He turned to her. "Sara, that's Mien…from Archenland…and Toire, also from Archenland, and Stalis, he's the son of one of the river gods near Beruna."

"I won't be a bother," Sarasael said quickly. "And I can do a lot of things. I know all about plants." That sounded really stupid, but it was all she could think of saying.

"I'm afraid we don't have a horse for you," said Toire. "We weren't expecting company." He sounded friendly enough. Sarasael figured they'd all be suspicious and skeptical of her, but he didn't seem so.

"She can ride with me," Rilian offered. He turned to Sarasael. "Would you mind doing that? There's room enough on the horse for both of us, and you're small."

"Um…" Well, that was certainly an awkward question, but… "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother." He gave her an exasperated look, and she had to hide a smile. "It's fine, thank you."

"We should be off." Stalis said, shielding his eyes and looking at the position of the sun. "Lady Inari, we welcome you among us and hope that you'll bear with us as we head back to Cair Paravel. You'll get to see a lot of Narnia this way."

"I'd like that," she said shyly, feeling quite embarrassed in front of all these men. The men all mounted their horses, and Rilian led her to his. It was a noble palomino, well-groomed and a really nice looking horse. Rilian mounted and held out a hand for Sarasael. She hadn't been on a horse in years…she took lessons awhile back, like every girl did, but had stopped when she went to school. In Mayharran everyone drove motorcars. The horses, that was only a phase. Sarasael had went through it for a little while, then realized that she was actually somewhat afraid of the stamping, snorting beasts that all the other girls were crooning over. She dropped lessons quickly and looked forward to the day she'd learn how to drive a motorcar instead. Those couldn't bite, she rationalized. But nevertheless she took Rilian's hand and mounted very awkwardly, and would have fallen if Rilian hadn't caught her waist.

"Sorry!" she said. "I haven't ridden in a really long time." He helped her onto the hours so that she was sitting behind him. She decided not to mention how much she disliked horses in case any of the men heard her and decided to leave her behind because she couldn't ride. "I'm going to fall off, I just know it."

"You're not going to fall. Just…hold on to my waist, okay?"

"What?"

"My waist…don't worry about it, this is what you do when two people ride on the same horse. It's nothing."

Sarasael felt really awkward doing it. She tentatively put her hands on Rilian's waist, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second.

The leader of the men started riding, and the others followed. Rilian's horse jerked forward, trotting and following the others. Sarasael almost immediately lost her balance and really did have to grab on to Rilian to make sure she didn't fall. And she found it wasn't very awkward at all…it was just regular horseback riding, except with two people. Soon the horse broke into a gallop, and Sarasael really did have to hold tight just to make sure she didn't fall off, and she still didn't like horses and was doubting that she ever would.

* * *

They stopped that night near the River Rush, about halfway to the Dancing Lawn. Had they ridden through the night, they would have easily made it to the Lawn, but they didn't want to tire the horses. That would be inconsiderate.

Sarasael had no complaints about staying out in the open all night. Stalis expected that she would, for Rilian had told him that she lived in a school in her homeworld and was used to dormitories. But Sarasael really was comfortable either way…it was quite common for Mayharran citizens to spend time outside, sleeping under palm trees. She and Hylaea did that all the time…there were just those nights when one didn't feel like hearing the annoying noises of sleeping girls or having something thrown at them by bored girls who weren't sleeping. People of Tahalset were close to nature; it was a natural state for them.

They made their camp near the bank of the river. Stalis checked the map over numerous times while Toire went out to fish and cook food for them all. Sarasael read her book of powders by the fire, because she figured when she got back there'd be much to catch up on. She'd have to push herself three times as hard as usual, so she figured she might as well read through the entire book, read how every powder was created, so she'd at least have a knowledge of it if not actually being able to do it. Some of the powders didn't look too hard at all…even though most of them she didn't learn how to make yet, she figured she would be able to at least try once they got to Cair. Rilian had told her that she could stay in an apartment or even have her own small house with a workshop and everything so she could do her work there.

It was such a comfortable setting, Sarasael thought. She was sitting in front of the fire reading, while Stalis looked over the map and made notes, Toire cooked the food over the fire and gave it to everyone, the horses whickered softly until Mien calmed them down, stroking their noses and giving them sugar, and they all shared stories of things that happened along the way.

Sarasael had never known anything about Narnia, and the others were quick to tell her everything they could. Mien cheerfully shared stories of things that happened in Archenland, telling her especially of the time Prince Cor and Aravis rode all the way from Calormene into Archenland to try and avert a war.

That story took much of the evening, because about halfway through it, Mien said one thing and Toire just _had_ to interrupt him. "No, it wasn't quite _that_ way," Toire said pointedly. "Rabadash was waving his ears more than he was shouting all those preposterous insults, and that's why he was turned into a donkey."

"Rubbish,"

"No, it really was that, because he was just sitting there waggling his ears up and down and that frightened people in Calormen."

"Well, sure, he probably did," Mien agreed with a shrug. "But that's not why he was turned into a donkey. It was the insults, really…not even insults, but you know, he was sitting there shouting idiotic things like 'Lightning in the shape of scorpions shall be rained on you' and all that rot. Who says that? And it was for that reason that he was turned into a donkey, because come on, anyone who runs around shouting things like that rather deserves it."

"Yes, of course it was the insults," Toire replied. "But it was the ear-waggling that did it because that was reminiscent enough of a donkey where it just kind of…started from there, you know, the ears turned into donkey ears and kept waggling and the rest just followed. Anyone can insult someone, but the ear wiggling, no, that was just Rabadash."

"But he wouldn't be turned that way just for the ears! I can stand here wiggling my ears all day and it's not going to turn me into anything!" Mien grabbed one of his ears and wiggled them in demonstration.

"Well sure, but you can stand here insulting me all day too in a ridiculous manner like that and it won't work either."

"You're a right obstinate prat sometimes…"

"See? And you're still not a donkey,"

Rilian and Sarasael exchanged looks at this argument.

"Er…does this happen often?" Sarasael asked, putting her book away and grinning. It was really entertaining…it wasn't a _vicious_ argument, just two people ferociously debating a story but still with the air of camaraderie. A friendly argument. Just a very _loud_ friendly argument.

"Oh yes, you should see it." Rilian nodded noncommittally. "When it comes to stories involving Archenland, they can never agree on anything. Be glad they haven't brought up King Lune again." He shot a sideways glance at Toire, who was now waving his hand around in the air and exclaiming something about hermits. "He's talking about the Hermit now. That's almost as bad as King Lune…but not _quite_. We should be thankful for small favors. Though how he got from ear-wiggling donkeys to hermits is beyond me, but we don't ask much anymore."

There was an exclamation from Mien, who then started pacing back and forth. "This is small favors?" Sarasael raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Rilian found this argument highly amusing. "They mean nothing by it, really. It's not like they're genuinely mad at each other. It's just what they do…honestly, it's when they _stop_ arguing about ridiculous little details in stories that I'll start worrying."

"And did they do this from the very beginning of your journey?"

He laughed. "Yeah, they did. But I got used to it, and you really do learn a lot from their arguments."

"A lot." She looked skeptically at him.

"A whole lot. You want to know anything about Narnian history? Just get them started and they'll argue for _hours_."

So Sarasael figured he was right, and they both sat back and watched Toire and Mien in their heated debate, which now involved both of them pacing around the fire and nitpicking at the slightest detail (right now, it was the importance of Aravis's shoes) and scowling and muttering when one of the others made a point that just had to be agreed with. She propped her head on her arms and Rilian sat next to her, and they both looked on with extreme amusement. The air was chilly, so soon Sarasael had to put her blankets around her. But the fire was warm, and the argument was _still_ going. It was like watching TV at home, only more entertaining because it wasn't an act. People really _were_ like that here. Here, people were more…

Real.

The word came into Sarasael's head, startling her out of her reverie. She was finding it so much more comfortable to be here in Narnia then she ever was at home, and that thought came very sudden and struck her hard. At home, she and Hylaea were the top students of their class. They were brilliant young enchantresses, capable of making nearly any powder and doing any spell, even spells above their year. Though they were both only second years, everyone assumed they'd get accepted into University with near full scholarships. Not that Sarasael minded…the idea of going to university with Hylaea was dreadfully exciting. But there was so much _stress_ and everyone just expected so much out of her. Studying all night, studying during the day, tests and the constant worry of what would happen if she failed everything. Her older brother made a point of being average, her other older brother had gone off to be in the military, and her mother just put so much pride in saying that her daughter was going to be a brilliant enchantress. The stress pressing in on all sides sometimes drove Sarasael insane, but she couldn't do anything about it. They just expected so much of her, always did. That's probably why they figured she'd be fine in this world…brilliant young girl like her couldn't possibly have any problems, of course. Even Hylaea seemed to think so.

It wasn't like that here, not in the least. She had thought that Rilian's men…being called _men_ like that, would be scary and intimidating, like Sarasael's teachers. They'd glare at her and be really suspicious and think she was up to something, or they'd expect her to be brilliant and do everything for them. But they weren't. They were just accepting of her as a normal person, a traveling companion, treating her perfectly normal and showing no negative feelings of her company. And now they were having a friendly argument…albeit a _loud_ one, but it was obviously something they did all the time and there were no hard feelings at all. And Sarasael hadn't been more relaxed in the past two years than she was now…just sitting near the fire with Rilian, enjoying the company of these people and not having to worry about anything. Grades? There were no grades here. No universities, no homework and tests and failing. She was for the first time in a long time relaxed and totally comfortable with everything.

The people were, too. They didn't expect impossible tasks out of her. As long as she explained to them that she was certainly _not_ a witch, they were all very nice to her.

And she really did like it here. And _that_ made her feel the most guilty of all. She liked it more than she expected to. Here, the people were more real and friendly and not so insanely academic. They were relaxed and she felt totally comfortable in their company. And Rilian…Yarrin's claws, that was the strangest of all. She felt like she had known him all her life, even though it had only been a little while. She could say anything to him and not worry that he'd think she was weird. Even Hylaea wasn't like that…she'd give Sarasael weird looks sometimes, usually when they were studying late into the night. Sarasael did weird things when she was sleep deprived.

She suddenly felt horrid, despite the comfort of the night. The very _idea_ that she'd think anything could be better than home…no! That was ridiculous and she was so stupid and a horrible person for thinking that. Her friends and family were all at home; she should put that above all else. Her future lie there, in university, not here. That she'd want to stay here instead of go home…that any place could be better! That was just wrong. What was she thinking, anyway? She shouldn't ever think things like that!

"What are you thinking?" Rilian interrupted her musings.

"What?" She blinked, almost forgetting he was there. "Sorry. Just kind of spaced out for a second there."

"Yeah, I could tell." He looked over at Mien and Toire, still arguing, but not as loudly as before. "Would I be really nosy if I ask you what? Because there's really not much to get ponderous when looking at _them_." He pointed to the arguers with a grin.

"Nothing, just…" she sighed. "Your Narnia is very different from my land, even more different than I thought it would be. In a good way, mind you," she added hastily. "It's more relaxed and…oh, I don't know. I feel really guilty about this."

"About what? Liking Narnia? Everyone does, it's not just you."

"No, it's…" she shook her head. "Thinking…even just for a moment…that I might like it a little better than Tahalset." She said quickly. "But it was only for a moment, mind you, and it's probably because they're so entertaining and people don't normally act like that back home. It's so academic and competitive, I guess I just got so used to that I forgot how to relax around friends."

"That happens, yes," Rilian nodded. "But don't feel guilty. After all, it's not permanent. Think of it as like…vacation. You go away from home for awhile, spend some time there, and of _course_ you like it better than home because you're so used to home and it's nice to be away from it. So it's just natural you should like it more. But that won't last…eventually you'll want to go back home again, and when you do, you'll realize how much you've missed it. I wanted to get away from Cair Paravel so much and was so happy when I was away, but now I'm glad I'm going back. You'll feel the same way…it's natural, I wouldn't worry." And he sounded so sure of himself that Sarasael couldn't help but believe him. It was logical, what he said, and gave her more peace of mind than her thoughts had before.

"You are right," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn't being traitorous to her world, then, and to all her friends and family there. It _was_ a vacation, just like the one she and her family took two summers ago, that was fun. She'd spend time away from home, and by the time she grew tired of this and got really homesick, they'd no doubt be able to bring her back. It was just a month and she'd have to get used to this for university, where she'd be staying several months away from her parents. "Yeah. That makes so much sense. I don't know what I'd do without you." Sarasael said.

"Neither do I." Rilian added.

"You don't know what you'd do without you?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!" he exclaimed with a laugh, and they both smiled at each other. The firelight flickered, and Stalis had already fallen asleep, bored by the bickering and exhausted from the day's ride. And they looked at each other, a little too much, a little too closely…

"Oh, forget it." Toire said, and he sat back down in front of the fire with Mien, turning to Rilian and Sarasael, who were sitting much closer to each other than before. "It's not going to work, we're not going to agree on this. Shall we just continue the story? Or are you all too tired?"

Rilian and Sarasael jumped, having almost forgotten that the others were there. "Oh, yes, continue!" Sarasael said quickly, looking down at the ground and brushing dust off her dress in embarrassment. Of all the ridiculous things to happen…what was she thinking, sitting that close to a prince? For a moment, she even thought…

No, that would just be _stupid_. She couldn't afford to do anything stupid.

"Alright then," Toire took a deep breath. "Where did we leave off?"

"After Rabadash was turned into a donkey for reasons still undecided though it was surely a combination of the ridiculous insults and ear-waggling, Aslan informed him that…"

Toire went off to continue the story, and Mien didn't interrupt this time. Mien eventually decided to go to sleep as well, which was all the better for Toire who could continue without the threat of interruption. Sarasael fell asleep before the story ever finished and didn't get to hear the end of it, but she didn't mind.

* * *

Sarasael awoke the next morning to the sound of harsh, accented voices. She opened her eyes, but didn't immediately raise her head. There was a horse near her head…she could see the hooves. It wasn't any of their horses.

"Best time for this," one of the voices said. "People getting complacent, you know. Caspian has been king for some time now, married and the like, peace in Narnia…no one's expecting anything."

"Too true. This plan of the Tisroc's (may he live forever) was very wise. No one will expect anything, not even the prince." Said a second voice.

"Have you administered the tranquilizers yet?"

"Yes, just now." There was a pause. "What should we do with this girl? Should we take her too?"

"I don't know, is she Narnian?"

"No idea. Let's do it anyway, for safe measures, so she doesn't go running off and blabbing it to the king."

Sarasael didn't move at all. She had no idea who these people were, but knew that whatever they were doing, it couldn't be good. The horses were jittery; it took all Sarasael's control to keep from flinching when their hooves came a little too close to her face.

"Let's take the prince first and worry about the girl later. Prince will put up a fight, these girls don't usually."

Those words registered in Sarasael's mind. They wanted to do something with Rilian…and they didn't think she could fight? What utter rubbish! She was a Tahalset enchantress, whoever these men were, she could grind them into the dust, even though she was only a second year.

There was the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath. "We'll just kill the prince, then," the voice said.

Sarasael didn't remain sitting any longer. She leaped up, nearly knocking into one of the horses and actually knocking into one of the men. He was tall and dark-skinned, with a wicked looking sword. He gave a yell of surprise and almost fell over. "Rilian!" Sarasael shouted. "Wake up! Now!"

Rilian's eyes snapped open, and he didn't waste any time in standing up. There were ten of these strange men surrounding them. Mien, Toire, and Stalis were in a deep sleep, having been drugged by whatever the new men did. Most of the men remained on horses, except for three of them who had their swords drawn. "Calormenes," he said, his eyes fixed on the lead one that Sarasael had just knocked into.

So these were Calormenes. She heard about them in the story last night. But what were they doing here? In the story, they all lived in their desert to the south, past Archenland. They had nothing to do with Narnia.

The lead one smiled rather nastily. "Indeed," he said. Rilian's face hardened and he went for his sword…which was not buckled around his waist, but lying several feet away. Obviously, for one did not sleep with a sword, especially since Narnia had been safe for a long time and there was no need to. He glanced at his sword, but one of the other Calormenes prodded him in the back. "None of that, now," he said. "Your men are drugged…they're not going to help you. Now, you can agree to come with us here, nicely, or we'll take you by force." They were all completely ignoring Sarasael, of course.

Rilian met her eyes and gave a small shake of his head as if to say, no, don't do anything, stay where you are and I'll handle it. She didn't like it, but nodded slightly in response, not moving at all.

"What do you want?" Rilian said, his voice ringing and sounding properly royal. "If you want something out of the royal treasury, I will grant it, for the safe release of my men and of my companions here."

One of the Calormenes on the horses laughed. "We don't want your money, prince," he answered. "We've got enough of our own. What we want…we want a good land, a good lush country full of water and teeming with life. We want Narnia, not just our desert. We want a real world, to show the truth of Tash to." he sneered.

"And what do you want me to do?" Rilian replied coolly. "Sign over something that will give you my land? I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken."

"Oh no," said a different one. "Don't you see? The Tisroc (may he live forever) had a brilliant plan. We're going to kidnap you and ransom you to the king and queen. If they give us Narnia, you live. If they don't, well, we certainly won't need to keep you around, will we?"

Sarasael glared fiercely at the Calormene who said that. For one thing, it was an idiotic plan (especially for them to actually _tell_ Rilian what they were doing), and for another thing…no! These men looked filthy, nasty, and crude. They wouldn't be allowed anywhere in Mayharran, and there was no way they could do anything to Narnia! And…they were going to _harm_ Rilian! How dare they! She opened her mouth to say something, but Rilian shook his head again.

"I see," he said calmly. "You expect me to go with you, without a fight?"

"Or we will take you by force," he was informed.

Rilian looked at his sword again. Unfortunately, that was a mistake, for one of the Calormenes noticed his glance and picked up the sword. Rilian tried not to react, but it was obvious he was helpless…his sword was gone, his men were drugged, and he wasn't wearing any armour, for why would one go dressed for war when Narnia had peace for years?

Sarasael moved her hand to her belt as slowly as she could, touching each of her pouches in turn in hopes that one of them would contain something that could get them out of this situation. The only thing she could think of was enchantment, but that would take too much time. If she had her death powder…but second years weren't allowed that. All the ones she had now were useful in everyday life, but definitely not in a situation where the option was fight or be kidnapped.

One of the men drew his sword and pressed the tip of it to Rilian's throat. "Come along now," the man said. "And we won't hurt your pretty lady over there."

While she was busy thinking over the situation, the man she had knocked into threw a rope around her neck and pulled it. Not tight enough to choke her, but tight enough to give the indication that he would if she made any sudden movements. Her fingers flew to the rope, but she couldn't get under it. It was pulled too tight…she tried to dig her nails in, but she couldn't get the rope loose. The Calormene didn't say anything, merely gave the rope a tug, indicating that he could easily pull it tighter if she tried too hard to escape.

She met Rilian's eyes and could tell that he was as afraid as she was. The men were drugged and neither of them could do anything for them, or for themselves…Rilian's sword was taken, and Sarasael didn't have any powders that could help them.

A Calormene prodded the sword into Rilian's back, and he bit back a yelp of pain. "Come on now. Go easy with us, will you? Maybe we'll even let you keep the lady."

Rilian took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height, looking as noble and regal as possible. "You let her go," He said, his voice strong. "And I'll come with you." He looked at Sarasael, and this time it was her turn to shake her head. But he nodded firmly, still looking slightly afraid but determined in his decision. He was so noble like that…

"Get on the horse first," the Calormene closest to him snapped. "And then we'll let the girl go." Rilian nodded and started walking over to the horse.

Sarasael tried to say something…tried to shout out and tell him that he should _absolutely not_ do this. She wouldn't let him give up his entire country and his livelihood for her, for a country girl he'd known for only a little while. That was sheer idiocy…noble, yes, but _stupid_. Her life wasn't worth that much. A prince's life was worth so much _more_.

But the cord bit into her throat and she couldn't say anything, only let out a strangled choking sound that only caused Rilian to turn around and look at her. He shook his head again and gave her this look that clearly said, no, let me do this.

But what could she do? She was no fighter, she didn't know any brilliant battle moves that could get her out of this chokehold. Her powders were useless; none of them were meant for situations like this. The Calormene was too strong for her to try and pull herself away. She closed her eyes, praying desperately to Yarrin to give her strength and get them through this, even though she doubted he could hear her. His world was far, far away from here.

She could hear the harsh voices of the Calormenes and Rilian speaking to them in a stern and royal manner, telling them the further conditions on which he would go with them, and on Sarasael's release. They spoke back and she hated their accent. She opened her eyes again and looked up at the sky…the sun had risen above the trees and the whole sky was lit with the bright color of morning, making everything seem alive and wild in the sunlight. Last night it was the complete opposite, but the brilliant stars dotting the sky seemed just as beautiful…

Stars…

There were _stars_. She looked at the sky, now clear of stars…but that was enough. The stars reminded her. She had nearly forgotten, being away from the stars of home that she was so used to. She was an enchantress, of course. She had a starform, just like every other enchanter, how could she have been so stupid as to forget that?

There were many constellations in the Tahalset sky, all of them formed the shape of some sort of animal. Enchanters were the only people who could actually take the form of whatever constellation they were born under. Hylaea was born under the cheetah, and could transform into that animal. Sarasael had been born under the snake, more specifically, a green snake. Green snakes were symbolic of summer, of the grass and nature and rebirth, of intellect and cleverness. She couldn't do much with it…back in Tahalset she was still practicing shapeshifting and could barely get it without Hylaea's help. Sarasael could never actually shift on her own, and that was at home where the snake was a prominent constellation. Here in Narnia…Sarasael didn't recognize any of the stars here.

She didn't even know if she could still shift at all, let alone do it by herself.

But it was an idea. It was the only idea left, and the other option was let Rilian be led away by these men, and who knew what would happen from there?

Closing her eyes again, Sarasael focused on the image of the constellation. Srinia was what the snake constellation was called…Srinia, which shone all through the second month, signaling high summer. The stars were lined in just the right way so that at midnight, the constellation seemed to almost glimmer with the sharp green of summer, of growth and life. Sarasael had spent her entire life with images of Srinia around her, for according to Tahalset tradition, an enchanter's starform was just as much part of them as their arm or leg. She focused as hard as she could on those stars that she knew so well, on all the images engraved on her things in her room, on her belt, trying desperately to reach that tie that she didn't even know how to control.

But the world of Narnia was strong, full of living magic and the power of will and determination, and unlike in Tahalset, here that was enough. Her mind focused on the stars, and as soon as they came brilliantly into focus in her mind, the change began.

It terrified Sarasael at first. Never before had she changed so quickly…before she even thought twice, she felt her body thinning and lengthening, her legs and arms melting together, the scales replacing her skin and hair. Her head flattened and she felt her blood run cold; her senses of sight dimmed and was replaced with an extraordinary sensitivity to vibration. It was like the trampling of the horses' hooves and the people and their voices were multiplied a thousand times over. This close, they wreaked havoc on Sarasael's newly awakened senses, made her want to move her powerful muscles and slither away as fast as possible from the huge amount of people who could trample her beneath their feet. She fell out of the Calormene's hands and his rope and curled on the floor, so unused to this that she had to remain still for a long time.

She flicked her tongue out, tasting the air. It was cool, almost cold, and smelled of men and horses. Beneath her was the comforting grass…grass that she could hide in if danger came. The sun was warm and far overhead now. The rays fell on her body, warming it and making her feel a lot more active. She couldn't quite see very well, only the grass in front of her. But the voices…the voices! They were loud and the feet moved and she wanted to run away to a place of safety. The snake instincts were taking over her mind, telling her to flee, flee, flee from this place!

The longer she remained there with the sun warming her body, the more comfortable she felt. After all, this was her starform…this was just an extension of herself, and it felt like another home. She knew what to do!

She heard a scream from one of the Calormenes. It was high pitched and jolted every bone in her body and her instincts cried to either flee or strike out. She knew how to control her muscles now and rose up to get a better view of things, her tongue flicking in and out. The Calormene was now backing away from her, a look of terror on his eyes. The others had their swords all drawn. She saw Rilian, too, and much to her dismay, he was looking appalled.

One of the lunged for her and she opened her mouth in a furious hiss, sinking her teeth into his arm. He yelled and shook her off violently, sending her flying through the air and landing hard on the ground. But snakes were tough, she could take that. She flexed her muscles and rose up again, slithering close to Rilian and rising in front of him. She opened her mouth in a vicious hiss, showing her fangs to any who dared to come close. Another one…one behind Rilian…tried to grab her, and she bit him too. He ran from Rilian, shouting something in his native language that she didn't understand.

Sarasael couldn't speak, only stay where she was, protecting Rilian the best way that she could. The Calormenes were terrified, for snakes had a nasty place in their lore and mythology as bringers of death and chaos wherever they went. Even moreso when a woman was involved…a woman _and_ a snake, two forces that they didn't like. Chaos ensued, as the Calormenes tried to get as far away from Sarasael as they could. In that chaos, Rilian managed to slip away and wrestle his sword out of the hands of a Calormene. Then he pointed it at their leader, saying in a clear voice,

"I suggest you all leave this instant and don't try anything like this again."

They didn't do anything at first, until Rilian continued, "I do not believe my lady has bitten to kill you," and she hadn't, because Sarasael could just turn into an average green snake…nasty bite, yes, like any snake, but she wasn't poisonous. "But if you try this again…lay one hand on my men and try to take Narnia from me…she will." Sarasael gave another loud hiss to show that she was agreeing. That was all he needed to say. The Calormenes mounted their horses and rode away as fast as they could to get away from such bad misfortune and possibly death.

Sarasael coiled back on the ground and didn't move for a long time. Now that she was transformed, there was the question of getting back…

But that wasn't much of a question. As soon as she gave her normal self any strong thought, she felt the stars shift and felt herself turning back to normal. A short while later, she was lying in the grass with scratches all over her bare arms, no longer being able to smell as well or sense vibrations, but she could see in color and everything was much larger and less terrifying.

She stood up shakily, swaying slightly on her feet and almost falling, except Rilian caught her and helped her stand upright. Neither of them spoke, they only stared at each other in surprise.

"Well," he said finally. "You told me you could shapeshift, I guess you can," he smiled nervously. His face was white and she could tell he was deathly afraid. No one in Narnia could shapeshift, and snakes didn't have a nice reputation there either. He let go of her as soon as he touched her arm as if she burned. She wavered but managed to stand upright.

"Rilian…" she held out a hand and he took another step backwards. "Rilian, it's just me. I'm not really a snake." It was lame but it was all she could think of saying. "It's just me. I'm just Sara. We can shapeshift in my world and it's no big deal…really. Not even poisonous. I'm not."

Rilian stared at her and she could tell he was trying to overcome his natural suspicion. She didn't move. Finally after five minutes, Rilian shook his head.

"I'm being stupid. Really stupid. Forgive me, I know you're not evil or poisonous or _anything_ I was just…suspicious, but that was just stupidity." He looked at the dust of the retreating Calormenes. "Oh, by the Lion's mane, I'm not quite sure what just happened but I do know that…Sara, you saved my life, you saved all our lives!" And he pulled her into a tight embrace, and she threw her arms around him to keep herself steady. Both of them were terrified of what just happened. Sarasael never encountered raiders like that, and Rilian had spent his whole life living an easy, cosseted life in Cair Paravel with his parents. "I owe you for that,"

"You don't owe me anything," she replied, looking at him closely. Their faces were so close it was almost surreal, she thought. "I was just doing what I had to do. My people are told that we must give our lives in defense of royalty, and that's what I was doing." There was a pause, and then she shook her head vigorously. "Actually," she said. "Actually, that's not it at all. I've found…I really don't care about royalty at all, about defending them or laying down my life for them. I mean who cares? I don't. I've never met a king or queen before in my whole life. That's just what they tell us common Mayharran folk…tell us that we have to do that. But I couldn't care less if the king of Tahalset died…but…I didn't want you to die, or give up your kingdom which would be just as bad, because you're _my_ friend. And I don't let anything bad happen to _my _friends because…well, they're mine. They're my friends." She looked away, embarrassed at her outburst. "And that's the truth of that."

"Well, I didn't want you to die either," He answered softly. "Just the idea of that…all those terrible men back there would have killed you in a heartbeat, and I was defenseless…they took my sword and everything, and I didn't know what to do. I've never been in that sort of situation before. Seeing you die…that idea was just too terrible, and I didn't think I could bear it. I'd give up my kingdom first."

"I wouldn't ask you to do that,"

"You don't have to. It's…it's what friends do, you know. Anything for each other." He reached out as if he was going to stroke her cheek, but he dropped his hand abruptly. "You look pale, are you alright?"

She didn't feel alright, she felt kind of woozy. "I think I need to sit down," she answered faintly and then did so, hard on the ground. Rilian sat next to her and she put her head in her hands, feeling really dizzy. "I've never shapeshifted before," she explained. "Not on my own. I did it a few times back home and it was with Hylaea's help. But I never did it by myself and never this quickly. It's easier to do here than at home, too." The sunlight was bright and warm to her as a snake, but was now dazzling in her eyes and she felt terribly lightheaded. "I don't think I'm going to do this that often." She blinked several times and shook her head to make the dizziness go away, which it didn't.

"Hold on," Rilian said. He went to where the supplies were and found a bottle of some liquid from Stalis's pack and poured her a small bit. "It's not much, Stalis likes this stuff, says it's good for the nerves." Sarasael took a drink of the amber liquid and choked, spitting half of it onto the grass. It was bitter and stung her throat and made her eyes water. "I guess it's better for Stalis's nerves than yours," Rilian added dryly.

Sarasael made a face and took another drink, this time drinking the whole cup. It was nasty and foul and she hated it, but it did make her feel better. She took several more sips until she felt more like herself again. "What about them? How are they?"

Rilian got up and went to look at the men. They were all still unconscious but alive and breathing. "They're alive." Rilian said. "But I don't know how long they're going to be out."

"Hold on, I'll see…where's my belt?" she reached for it but found it wasn't buckled around her waist anymore. If it was _gone_, then…

"You've lost it? Oh…no, it's over there." Rilian pointed to where the Calormene's rope was, where she had transformed. She sighed in relief. Thank all the gods it was still there. She stood up and went and got it. "Let me see what I can do," she said, going over to the men. "What were they given?"

"Sleeping drugs, I think."

"Okay." She found her generic powder and used that, sprinkling it over each one and saying the words all at once. The three men sputtered and sneezed, the powder getting into their noses and waking them up.

"What the…?" Mien coughed violently and Toire slapped him on the back until he caught his breath.

Stalis looked up at the sun and gave a start. "It's practically noon." He said, surprised. "What happened? Why did we sleep so late? If we're going to get to the Dancing Lawn tonight, we needed to get a head start at dawn…what…" then he looked at the disheveled and pale Sarasael, and the equally disheveled Rilian, and the hoof marks all around. "What happened? Something happened."

Toire stood up after making sure Mien was alright. "Rope," he said, picking up the piece of Calormene rope that the man tried to strangle Sarasael with. "Calormene rope." Toire looked sharply at Sarasael and Rilian. "You both have explaining to do. A whole lot of it, if this is any indication."

Sarasael and Rilian glanced at each other. "Go ahead," she said. "You tell."

"Okay, then." Rilian took a deep breath and then went to face his men, now all looking curiously at him. "It's really an odd story."

"We like odd stories." Mien answered.


	6. Chapter 6

((Don't worry, I knew what you meant ;) And I love Wicked...interesting book, and excellent musical.

Didn't much care for this chapter and the next few...they were extremely difficult to write, as this sort of thing is not what I usually write nor enjoy writing. But since I've decided to post all this, I must post the things I didn't like as well, because such is novel writing, right? I remember battling with this stuff April of my senior year, right when the recent Narnia movie came out on DVD. What fun. But this story has thirty-one chapters and an epilogue, so...well, there's still an awful long way to go))

The men were all grateful to Sarasael for what she did, and she was thoroughly embarrassed by the end of Rilian's tale. She wasn't used to high praise, after all, she was just defending the people she liked. Because she liked these Narnians _a lot_ and didn't want to see anything happen to them, particularly Rilian. She was going to miss him so much when she went back home, which was going to be at the end of this month. It _was_ going to be at the end of the month, she kept telling herself. Though she didn't know why she bothered…she had the feeling that it wasn't going to be this month or next month or even this _year_. But she tried not to think of that, and instead focus her attention at the beautiful landscape around her. Narnia was beautiful and she was seeing so much of it and when she did get back home (and she would!) she'd be younger than everyone else, yes, but far more worldly wise. How many other Mayharran girls could say they saw another world, befriended a prince, and fended off an attack by raiders?

The next day, they arrived at a place Rilian called the Dancing Lawn. It was populated by all manner of creatures…fauns and dryads and wood nymphs, talking Beasts, all living together happily in this area. Mien wanted to ride straight to Beruna Ford, but Sarasael and Rilian were exhausted from the raid and by the end of the day, Sarasael was practically falling off of the horse, so they had to stop.

"It's going to snow tonight." A Bear said enthusiastically to Stalis as they rode into the main part of the Lawn. "Are you going to stay for the celebration? It'll be the first snow of the season."

Stalis sighed impatiently, but Toire stopped him. "We might as well." He said. "I think poor Sara is going to drop off her horse unless we stop." He looked back at Sarasael, who was nodding off again and bumped her head into Rilian's shoulder and started upright, looking around with that look that people often give when they are caught sleeping in class.

"What?" she blinked at Toire. "I'm fine. I'm not sleeping. Not at all." The men had gotten to using her nickname too, and she felt really at home with that. It was a million times better than being called Miss Inari, like at school.

"Sure, that's what you want us to think." Toire responded, his eyes twinkling. "We'll stop for the night. I'm sure we can reach Beruna tomorrow. We're making good time, and the Great Snow Dance isn't every year. Well, yes it is, but it's not every year we get to see it. What do you say to that, my lord?" he said to Rilian. "Want to participate in the Great Snow Dance?"

"That'd be marvelous, but I think I'd rather just sleep first." Rilian answered. He too could barely keep his eyes open.

"We'll stop then." Toire pulled his horse to a stop and the others followed.

"Are you going to stay for the dance?" the Bear asked. "We would be honored to have you here, my prince."

"We're going to stay, yes." Rilian answered, getting off his horse and helping Sarasael off too. They all followed the Bear into the clearing where the celebration was getting started. There were fauns warming up on their pipes, nymphs brushing their hair and chattering amongst themselves, all kinds of Animals cooking and talking and laughing. The younger Creatures kept looking up excitedly every time a cloud crossed the sky. Fires were started and the cooking smelled delicious. It was the largest gathering of Narnians that Sarasael had seen her whole journey here.

"Do they do this often?" Sarasael whispered to Rilian as two young Chipmunks raced past her, one of them shouting something at the other.

"Oh, the Great Snow Dance only comes once a year. But there's all kinds of other celebrations too…this is one of the biggest, though. The fauns stay out all night and the fires burn until morning and the music never stops. Wait until you see it!" And he got that look again, that brilliantly excited and proud look he got whenever talking about something in Narnia he really liked. He got that look when he told her about Cair Paravel, too. He really loved Narnia in a way she'd never seen anyone love a country before. She walked along through the crowd and listened while Rilian went on about celebrations and such, only half listening. Everything was so busy here, each doing their own things in preparation for the dance. They barely noticed her, only stopping to bow to Rilian and then went about their business. The air had a feeling of tension and excitement, like the day before Serseve, a celebration back home. It was busy and chaotic but everyone knew the end result would be worth far more than this chaos…a whole night of dancing and music and celebration.

Finally they found a quieter place, off by some trees just outside of the Dancing Lawn. They intended to stay there and just wait until nightfall, but both of them were so tired that they fell asleep within ten minutes.

Sarasael woke later because it was really cold and she was shivering. She sat up and blinked…it was now evening and it was snowing. The ground had already been covered in a fine dusting of white, and there was snow all over her dress and her hair. She sneezed several times and that woke Rilian up. Actually, it startled him awake, because he woke up and drew his sword before looking confused.

"That was just me." Sarasael said. "I was sneezing."

"Oh." He put his sword away. "It's already snowing…we slept longer than I expected."

"When does the dance start?"

"It starts…" A firework exploded from the clearing yonder. "It starts _now_. Come on!" before Sarasael had a chance to say anything, Rilian grabbed her hand and started running back towards the Lawn, and she struggled to catch up, tripping over her skirts. When they reached the clearing, they were waved at by Mien and Toire, who were sitting by one of the fires, eating some soup. They ran over to join them.

"Wondered what you were doing all afternoon." Mien said, giving Rilian a look out of the corner of his eye. "Away from our watchful guardian eyes. Not fighting any more Calormenes, I hope?"

"Sleeping," Rilian answered.

"Oh." Mien looked at Sarasael, who was yawning and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Guess you were sleeping. Soup?"

"Thanks." Mien gave them each some soup, then pointed to the largest fire in the center. "The faun dances are going first. It's the fauns and the wood nymphs, they're opening this whole thing. Which just started, good thing you two woke up, or I'd have to go after you." Two fauns and two dryads had gone in front of the fire and bowed to each other. A small group of fauns on the other side had taken out their pipes and were striking out a cheerful tune. The two fauns joined in with the tune, dancing first with each other, hooves moving quickly. They then held their hands out to the dryads and the four of them danced around the fire until a faun misstepped and was promptly hit in the head with a snowball.

"First misstep of the season!" Toire applauded and so did a lot of the other spectators.

Rilian grinned. "Everyone knows the steps, and they all join together and dance around the central fire. If someone makes a mistake, someone else throws a snowball at them." It was an absolutely ridiculous idea, but it looked like a lot of fun. More people joined in and the circle grew larger. The steps were quick and looked complicated, but everyone did seem to know them. The night wore on and the snow grew heavier, and so did the music. It wasn't long before the music was in everyone's soul and everyone wanted to dance.

"I'm going up!" Toire exclaimed and Mien hooted in encouragement. They watched Toire join the throng, and it was odd to see the burly Archenlander dancing just as swiftly as everyone else. He caught the waist of a dryad and spun her around, and she laughed with delight. Toire ducked as a Deer leaped over him and then swiftly rejoined the dances, not getting hit by a snowball at all.

"Funny," Rilian said, amused. "Toire's better than half the people up there. All that army training…" Rilian looked wistful. "Wasted, when clearly he's better suited to dancing."

"Prancing," Sarasael added as Toire did a fancy sidestep and spun around himself to avoid a snowball being launched at the Badger in front of him. "Prancing quite nicely, I might add. Prancing better than any man I've ever seen. When I go home, the first thing I shall tell them is how well Narnian men prance." Toire waved to them, pausing a moment, but didn't lose his footing for a second. "I'd suffice to say he's better at prancing then half the girls in my dormitory."

"Be sure and tell him that." Rilian said wickedly, and Mien laughed. "I can imagine the look on his face when you say that…"

"Let's see you up there, then." Stalis prodded Rilian in the back. "If you're so inclined to make fun of Toire's rather inspired moments. High prince of Narnia, can you prance like the rest can?"

Rilian turned around and raised an eyebrow at Stalis. "Want to see?"

"Be my guest." Stalis beckoned to the fire and then leaned back, propping his head on his hands. "That'll give me something to tell your father. Won't he be proud."

"Yes." Rilian stood. "I'm going to join them. You just watch." He ran over to the circle and joined them, getting in between a Fox and a Platypus, who was dancing quite awkwardly. He watched their steps a moment before joining in. The Narnian music was in his blood…he quickly mastered the basic steps and got in line, dancing swiftly around the fire. At one point he and Toire crossed paths, and Toire bowed with a laughing smile to the prince before going off in his own direction. They were both good at this, falling easily into step while the fire flickered and danced as well, and the fireworks went off above the trees. It wasn't snowing very heavily, but it was enough to blanket the ground away from the fire.

Rilian came close to them again and held out his hand. "Come on, Sara, join with us now!"

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, I don't know the steps!"

"Don't worry about that, you'll learn soon enough." Rilian grabbed her hand and hauled her upright. "It's easy, you watch." He dragged her to the circle and indicated the steps. She watched but it didn't do anything, she still didn't know it. "Just dance. Don't even think about it."

She attempted a few steps, but they were awkward and out of place and she ran into a Beaver. "Sorry," she apologized, but the Beaver…well, it laughed and then threw a snowball at her. It hit her in the back and she gasped at the cold.

"You have to watch," Rilian said. "Because that's what they do if you misstep. Throw snowballs at you."

"Oh, sounds delightful." She said sarcastically as she lifted up her skirt and attempted to do the steps again. It didn't work so well, she tripped a few more times and got hit with snowballs a few more times. "Maybe I ought to just go roll in a snowbank somewhere. It's having the same result as my abysmal dancing."

"No, just watch more carefully. Close your eyes and listen to the music." She was doubtful but figured he knew what he was doing. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the lively jig that the fauns were playing. The music was really catchy, sixteenth notes in a major key, and she found if she listened close enough she could almost understand the steps that went with it.

"See, you're getting it!" Rilian exclaimed next to her. "Now come on!" She opened her eyes and dodged a snowball that was aimed at her arm. Rilian was dancing and she fell into step beside him, feeling almost like the music possessed her footsteps. If she just ignored everything else and pretended she was dancing alone with him, it was much easier…she twirled around a rock and he caught her and spun her around the other way. There was applause from the fauns and a whistle from Toire who was far too into this dance. The music increased in tempo and she had to try frantically to keep up, but she and Rilian were now being cheered on by a group of Deer who soon joined in with them. Now she found herself dancing with Rilian among a lithe group of Deer, fast and enthusiastic. But she wasn't doing all that bad. You know, she almost had the hang of…

…tripping over a deer and falling on the ground and getting hit with about three snowballs at the same time. Four. Five. And it was snowing much heavier now, on top of all that. She heard people laughing at her, but that really didn't matter because she was laughing, too. This was so ridiculous…

"Need a hand?" Rilian asked, holding out a hand to her. She grinned and allowed him to help her up. She was covered in snow and dirt and was all red in the face, but this was _fun_, a lot more fun than the school dances at home.

"Thanks," She said, and stepped out of the circle before they threw any more snowballs at her. They were both exhausted from the dancing and wandered away from the circle, watching in amusement as Toire soon became the center of attention again. Eventually they went back to the clearing they were before. It was snowing even harder, but the tree provided a nice shelter. Sarasael lied down on the ground and rested her head on her arms, looking through the branches at the sky. Normally the sky would be dotted with stars, but now it was all cloudy and the snow was falling fast. It was peaceful and wild all at the same time, with the music and fires from the Great Snow Dance. She had been to dances in her world, but they weren't as fun as this, nor as wild and free.

"Sara?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking?" Rilian lay beside her and looked up through the trees, trying to see whatever she was seeing.

"Thinking? Nothing much, really. Just how peculiar this all is, really. Perhaps this is Aresia's doing, her weaving, bringing me into this world and weaving our threads together. It feels like that."

"What?" She kept forgetting that Rilian knew nothing of Tahalset beliefs.

"Yarrin is the creator of the world, he is the chief god and lord over everything. But Aresia is the Weaver…when Yarrin wishes a world to be created, he commissions Aresia to weave it. She has a different tapestry for every world, and she weaves together all people and places and things, their lives intertwine and separate according to her will." Sarasael explained lazily. "I don't know what her purpose was, weaving me into this world, for however long I'm to stay here. But I know she must have one. Everything happens for a reason, you know." She felt sleepy and slightly dreamy from the music.

"That is odd," Rilian remarked. "I've never heard anything like that before. But I bet she did have a purpose. Did she weave you with me?"

"I think so," She said. "Our threads are intertwined now, as all friends are. It's the same with Hylaea and me, though I don't know how it's going to be when I go back home. I'll still keep writing to you and talking and I'll visit as often as I can. I'll show you my school and everything at home and then I can brag about my homeland, too." The snow fell softly on the ground and outside of the tree it was almost entirely white. "It doesn't snow so much there,"

"That's too bad. Snow is…it's really nice, you know?" Rilian sounded awkward again all of a sudden, and she didn't quite understand why. "I mean, it's really white."

She turned over and put her head on her hand, resting her elbow on the ground and looked at Rilian, raising an eyebrow. "Is there any reason for your random stating of the obvious?"

"Well, snow is white, you know."

"I can see that pretty well, yes."

"And…fluffy…"

"Rilian, if you're going to say something, you might as well say it." She was a student; she knew when people were dancing around a subject. He sighed and put his arm over his eyes, and didn't say anything for awhile. Sarasael shrugged and went back to her daydreaming. It was too nice a night to bother with awkward things. The music had her relaxed and she was tired anyway from the dancing, not to mention wet and she would have to change before she went to bed. All those snowballs, of course. Snow was so much fun…maybe she'd someday transfer to a university in the north where it would snow. She could convince Hylaea to do the same…well, if she got back in time. Hylaea probably still hadn't chosen a university…she was still a third year and no one chose until fourth. There was time, once she came back, to catch up with Hylaea so they could still go to university together. She'd just have to convince Hylaea to go to a different one further north instead of the big one in the city that they were planning on going to. Things could change, after all. And Sarasael could get into any university she wanted once she got back. She was the first person ever to live in an entirely different world. It would work splendidly. She'd just have to get home first.

"So Rilian," she said. "Tell me more about Cair Paravel. If I am going to live there, I'd like to know some details about where I'm living."

"Living."

"What?"

"You said it permanently."

"What?" she opened her eyes. "What did I say?"

"You spoke about it like you were going to live there permanently." It took Sarasael a moment to understand what he was saying, then unfortunately, she did.

"Oh, I didn't mean that!" she exclaimed. "Not permanently. I mean, I'm going home. I really am. At the end of this month, that's what they said…I'm coming with you…but…not staying for that long…" she sighed, and was silent for a moment. "I don't know when I'm going home." She said at last. "They said two weeks, then forgot. Now they said a month…I don't know! It takes years to develop things like this, and even though time's going really fast there, I doubt it's going to only take a year. It took forever to develop even the theory of other worlds…the practice! I don't know how long that will take. By the time it's actually _done_, who knows how many years will have gone past there? Twenty? Then what's the point of even going home if that long has gone by? My best friend will be graduated and my brothers, I dunno, they'll end up married or something. Even though they're my brothers and I have no idea who would marry my brothers."

Rilian sighed too. "I never thought of it that way." He said. "I can't imagine what it would be like to go back to Cair and have everyone suddenly be ten years older, while I'm still like this."

"And have your brother get married."

"But you never know. They might actually learn it after a year."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"No." he admitted truthfully. "I don't. You don't either."

"No. Scientific theories take years to develop. Not just a year. The magistrate is brilliant but not _that_ smart. I guess I just shouldn't expect anything."

Rilian sat up. "Oh, don't say that." He shook his head. "It's not their fault it's taking a long time. But they'll get it eventually, and then you'll go home and make new friends. Hylaea's nice, really, and I'm sure she'll always be your friend. But if it takes a long time to get home, well…you'll come back and make new friends, and you'll have everyone you met here. Or you could always stay here if you want." He added really quickly. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed here. Actually that would be kind of nice if you would. Maybe you can live in the palace with me someday." And then he looked really embarrassed and looked away again.

"Well, I am going to Cair with you," she said, confused. "It's going to be fun there, I'm sure I'll like it. I just…it's just not easy."

"No, I understand." Impulsively, he took her hands. "But I'll be here for you, Sara. As long as you're in Narnia, I will. And even when you go back, whenever that is."

She was sitting up, looking at him now. "You won't be like, one of those people who stop talking to someone because they're moving?"

"Never. People actually do that?"

"Yeah, when I was in elementary school. They did."

"They don't do that here in Narnia. We keep in touch no matter what." They were sitting really close and the snow was falling heavier. But the dance was still going and the music was even wilder than before. "Sara, can I tell you something?"

"What is it?"

"I…" he let go of one of her hands and reached out to stroke her cheek. She froze. "I just wanted to say that…that we're going to be friends for as long as possible. I mean that definitely, no matter what happens tonight or any other night or anytime as long as you're here, we're still going to be friends. If I do anything stupid, we'll be friends despite my stupid things, okay?"

"Okay," Sarasael answered unsurely. "That's great, but…Rilian, what are you talking about?"

He looked frustrated and couldn't quite find the words to say. Princes were taught how to rule a country and how to interact with their people, but not this sort of thing. "Well, we've known each other for…well, not that long, I mean it was long enough. It wasn't as long as most people know each other but it was longer than some other people know each other so I guess it was long, well, not that long but it wasn't short either." And he had to stop, because he knew that made absolutely no sense. "I mean we've known each other for long enough to know what each other is like."

"Okay, that makes sense," she said with a small smile.

"And I know that eventually you're going to have to go home and I'm going to have to stay here and be prince and eventually king while you go on to be some really famous enchantress or whatever and do all these great things in your world and that'll be nice, you know? To be famous and whatever follows. But you're going to remember me and I'm definitely going to remember you because you're the sort of person that one tends to remember." Rilian couldn't help but feel that this was not going well. "And…I don't care if you're going home tomorrow or a year from now, either way…I want…to spend more time together and…I feel like…well, I like you an awful lot." That sounded stupid, too.

"And…?" Sarasael didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what to expect, and she felt both like she wanted to turn and run away and yet stay here forever.

"And, you know, it's great when people like each other and I rather think I fancy you more than I fancy normal people, in the sort of way that…would make sense if it was in a book instead of me sitting here trying to say something and it really comes out all ridiculous. I told you I just start rambling when I'm nervous, and right now I'm nervous because I'm sitting here with you trying to say something that's just…not working. But…I like you a lot, Sara, can I say that? Does that make sense? More than anyone I've liked before, and…I…"

"You meant to tell me that you love me?" she said, looking directly at him.

"What?" he stopped and met her eyes, momentarily taken aback.

"Well, I'm just making a guess, you know," She looked away. "Just saying. Just guessing." She wasn't familiar on what to do during a time like this either. There was once when Jornen admitted true love to her behind school once, but they were eight and everyone did that sort of thing back then. Hylaea got "married" to Slaen when they were seven, and of course after a year they both totally forgot. But it was different when you're young. She was sixteen now…it was _much_ different, and she had no idea what to say. Perhaps she had always expected that she'd have Hylaea there when someone said anything to her like this, or that she'd be more ready for it, or at school instead of under a tree in the snow with the fire and dancing in the woods beyond. "It's probably not a very good guess. I'm hardly good with this sort of thing." She didn't even know why she said it in the first place. It made sense two seconds ago, but now it just sounded ridiculous, like something out of a novel that the girls would hide in their dormitory and read late at night. Of course, in that, two people fell hopelessly in love at sunset and admitted it passionately and truly, and there wasn't any stumbling and stammering and rambling. There were usually speeches. There should be speeches.

"And I am?" Rilian replied with a nervous laugh. "Making a mess of it, I'm sure. You probably think I'm insane."

"Aren't we all?" she replied lightly, or tried to reply lightly. It sounded just as awkward as he did, and they both looked shyly at each other for a moment before Sarasael said, "Well, do you?"

There was a long pause before Rilian took a deep breath and answered, "Yes. Yes, I do." It was a big thing to say, especially for a prince. "Sorry."

Sarasael didn't know what to say for a moment. She couldn't think of anything, though she knew she had to say _something_. She felt suddenly dizzy and faint, and she wanted to run to the dormitory and ask Hylaea what to do. But there was no dormitory, and anything she did was her own choice. She didn't have anyone else to ask. She had to close her eyes and go by instinct alone.

"Don't apologize," she said. "It's really annoying, when you keep apologizing for things you shouldn't. Like this." She took a deep breath and met his eyes, and for a moment neither of them could say anything. It was as if they were standing on a dangerous precipice, wanting to step off but at the same time too afraid. They were young and terrified…young people that weren't ready for this sort of thing, yet having no choice but to face it.

"Don't apologize." Sarasael removed one of her hands from Rilian's and reached out to brush some of his light hair behind his ear. "There's no reason for that, Rilian. Don't you see? How well we know each other even though it hasn't been that long at all. The way we dance and are sitting here under this tree with the snow falling. Aresia…she's woven us together and there's nothing we can do about it now. Because…because I love you as well, and I have…I have for…" she closed her eyes. "For awhile now. Maybe since I met you, who knows. That's just the way things work. Maybe that's why I was brought into this world…I was brought here for you."

"You believe that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Do you?" she replied, and her hands were shaking.

"Yes," he answered, and he leaned forward and kissed her. She put her arms around him and they remained embraced for a long time, until a clump of snow fell off one of the branches and startled them both. Both Rilian and Sarasael stared at it before they burst out laughing.

"Why is that funny?" Rilian asked, shaking his head.

"I have no idea," she answered, and they both smiled at each other, before Sarasael grew serious. "This isn't a good idea. You're still a prince. We shouldn't…"

"My father met the person he was going to marry on an island beyond the eastern end of the world," he said. "She was the daughter of a star, and you're from another world. It's Narnia. These sort of things don't matter here. And if my parents object…well, it's my choice, isn't it? And yours. Whatever we face, we can face it together. I think I can be strong enough, if you can, too."

"I think so now," she gave his hand a squeeze. "But I don't know how much longer I'll be in Narnia."

"Then we'll have to make every moment the best we can." And he kissed her again, and she believed him.

They were young; only teenagers underneath a tree in the snow while a great dance went on behind them. The snow fell and they stayed embraced until they fell asleep, and it felt like the snow and their love was going to go on forever, that nothing in the world could harm them or touch them as long as they had each other. That belief they held to, for it was a beautiful night and the perfect time and place to be in love. There was no thought of the future, only their future together, a song that sounded beautiful and clear in the cold night air.


	7. Chapter 7

((I'm just going to get this story up as quickly as possible, I suppose, becase there's still an awful long way to go. The early part of this story I still look back on with at least a little bit of fondness, mainly because it didn't involve me sitting in the college library for hours on end studying the psychology of imprisonment and getting strange looks from the librarians since I'm a music major and therefore wouldn't need to know anything about solipsism syndrome...))

Mien and Toire were not foolish…they were Archenlanders, and Archenlanders tended to be sharper and more observant than most. They knew something had changed since the night of the Great Snow Dance, though they were wise enough not to say anything out loud. Through the three weeks they traveled across Narnia back to Cair, it grew even more obvious as they watched their charge and the girl that was traveling with them. Averted glances, light touches, and that sort of smile that two people in love give each other…all that was noticed. But no one said anything; they figured it was wiser not to, and leave the two young people to their own devices. Stalis made sure he kept an eye on them, as Rilian was the prince and they both didn't want the prince getting in any sort of trouble that young people usually got into when they were infatuated with someone. But it was all tastefully done, and neither Rilian nor Sarasael had any idea that the men knew about them. They, of course, thought they were keeping it quiet, a sort of ridiculous secret love that only the two of them shared and was a mystery to the rest of the world.

They all traveled down the Great River, the last step on their journey to Cair Paravel. Rilian woke Sarasael on the last day with a light shake of her shoulder. "Sara, wake up."

"It's early. Go away." She murmured into the rolled-up shirt she was using as a pillow.

"It's not early at all. Sun's already up, and you have to wake up, because I've got something to show you."

"Well, show me later. I'm tired."

"No, you must see it now."

She yawned and squinted at the sun, which had just risen. "What, I ask, is so important that you must wake me up in such a manner this early?"

"Come with me and you'll see."

"See what?"

"Your first glimpse of Cair Paravel." He helped her stand up and then she followed him over the hill, and he pointed. "See? Watch,"

The sun had risen and Cair Paravel was in full view, the sun showing off its towers and parapets, the white marble of the castle, and running into the city that had formed out of it. It was a magnificent sight, not just the castle but the fact that a whole city had been built around and part of it. It was obviously greater than the Mayharran Girls' School and anything that Sarasael had seen in history books.

"You just wanted to bring me here," She said. "When the sun rose so it would make some huge dramatic impression of the sun on your city."

"Well, can you blame me? It looks _good_ in dramatic sunrise impressions."

She laughed. "I'll give you that. It does." The sea glittered just beyond the castle, making it seem even grander in the early morning light. "Bet you're just so proud, aren't you?"

"Absolutely. And we'll get there today. They're expecting us, so there will be a parade and everything. Hey don't look nervous!" he said quickly when Sarasael got a rather frightened look on her face at the mention of parades and large crowds. "I'll introduce you to my parents and they'll be fine with it, and the rest of Narnia will, too. You're really nice, not to mention pretty."

"You flatter me too much." She said with a smile. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Can't help it. You just beg to be flattered." He kissed her, several times, and they probably would have stayed there kissing a long time, had they not heard a polite cough and clearing of throat behind them.

"Ahem." They both broke away and turned to look behind them. Mien stood there, with one eyebrow raised. "If you want to get an early start, we should leave now. They expected us yesterday, so there's going to be a whole lot of people waiting around. Don't want to keep them waiting."

There was a pause while the two disentangled.

"Um. No. Of course not." Rilian answered. Sarasael turned bright red, all the way to the roots of her hair, and looked away. Rilian didn't blush, princes usually didn't, but was embarrassed enough as well.

"So we'll get the horses ready and wait for you." Mien continued. "Stalis already cleaned everything up. You might want to hurry."

"Yeah. Hurry. Will do that."

"And," Mien added in a gentler tone. "I won't mention this to your parents. But you'd better be more responsible, okay? Don't get into any trouble. You too." He nodded at Sarasael who had shook down her long hair in front of her face in a vain attempt to look as invisible as possible. Mien saluted and then went back down the hill.

"So I think I'm going to die now." Sarasael said. "Right here. I'll waste away in shame and humiliation and have to be exiled for a hundred years in Ettinsmoor, like that witch lady did."

"If you mean the White Witch, she wasn't exiled in Ettinsmoor, she just had a castle to the north and took over Narnia for a hundred years. And I'm probably going to die with you, and they'll find our bodies on the hill."

"And Mien will say, 'poor things, must have been shame. Wasted them right away.' So what are we going to do?" Sarasael covered her face. "Go back and face them? They'll…oh I don't know what they'll do, but it'll be awkward."

"Put on a brave face. They're really not bad guys, they'll be fine with this."

"And your family?"

Rilian didn't answer immediately. This close to Cair Paravel, other thoughts invaded Rilian's mind that he hadn't thought of before. There was of course the question of his parents. It seemed, when they first admitted their love to each other, that his parents would be quite accepting of this. Now this close to home, he wasn't so sure. His parents were freethinking and kind, like all Narnian monarchs were. But…he tried to ignore the niggling doubt at the back of his mind. That wouldn't matter, he'd convince them, he'd show them how wonderful Sarasael was. They'd come around in no time.

"Once they meet you, it'll be fine. You're smart, and they like smart people." Rilian answered. "So we ought to go, and then you can see the fabulous parade when we finally get there."

"Sure," Sarasael sounded doubtful; the idea of meeting royalty still made her nervous. But when Rilian was there, she didn't feel so afraid. It'd be okay if she was with him, he'd somehow make everything alright. She didn't know how…but she believed it.

They went back to the horses and Mien gave them a small nod. Toire and Stalis gave no indication that Mien told them anything, and went about their business as they had every other day. Soon the horses were saddled and Sarasael was sitting behind Rilian again, and they made their way down the final stretch of the river to Cair Paravel.

It wasn't so much a gate as it was an entranceway, Sarasael observed. It was a beautiful entranceway made out of the same carved white stone that the rest of the castle-city seemed to be made of. It was sparkling in the midmorning sun, and they rode through it and into the main city.

Sarasael promised herself that she wouldn't act surprised, that she wouldn't act like some stupid country girl that never saw a city before. But that promise was soon broken when she got her first glimpse of the city close up. It was filled with more people than she had seen in her life, there were stalls and people selling their wares…she could see a myriad of bright fabrics, or shiny things, or other random items displayed proudly for sale. There were roads and cobblestone sidewalks, and the smell of cooking food, the shouts of people and Animals and she was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed. Mayharran was only a small town, and she had only been to the city once, on a field trip, a really long time ago.

Then add to the already overwhelming size of the city the fact that there were hundreds of people dressed in bright colors who were cheering and waving and exclaiming things when they entered.

A Centaur came forward, blowing on a horn. "Announcing the return of Prince Rilian, and the honoured guards Mien, Toire, and Stalis!" he announced. The people cheered even harder, clapping and welcoming them all home. They rode in through the gates, and the people were even more enthusiastic. There was lively music being played, too. And…and then she was in front, because she was still riding with Rilian and he was the honoured prince returning home at last. So there she was, feeling incredibly random and awkward, with all eyes first going to Rilian in happiness at seeing their prince come home, and then in confusion at seeing the strange girl riding with him.

Rilian was at home with all of this. He was waving back at the people and acknowledging them, and was totally comfortable with being in such a huge city with a gigantic crowd. The men were having fun…a dryad threw Mien a wreath of flowers, and he was wearing it around his neck and grinning while Stalis rolled his eyes. Sarasael tried to look as invisible as possible, but it was kind of hard when you're on a horse.

"Don't worry." Rilian gave her hand a squeeze. "It'll be fine. I'll introduce you and then everyone will know you and it won't be a problem at all. So stop looking terrified." Her face was white and she was biting her lip and trying to shrink down on the horse and look small. She looked around at all the people and tried giving them a small smile, and a little wave to a Badger who was standing on its hind legs to get a better look. The Badger waved back.

Finally, they rode through the whole city, to the main entrance of the actual castle. There were the King and Queen, resplendently dressed. They looked every bit the way Sarasael imagined a king and queen to look…magnificent, handsome (and the queen was beautiful, of course) and regal. They smiled in greeting to their son.

"Welcome home," the King said, opening his arms. Rilian dismounted, leaving Sarasael sitting alone on top of the horse, looking terrified. He ran to his father and they embraced.

"And look at you!" the Queen exclaimed. "How much older you look! Did you like Narnia, now that you've seen so much more of it? You'll have to tell us everything. I'm so glad you returned safely." She too embraced Rilian and kissed him welcomingly on the cheek. "I'm sure you've seen all sorts of exciting things along the way."

"Did you stop by the Shuddering Wood?" asked the King. "The folk there are very nice. They did so much for me when I was younger."

"And Beruna Ford! It is such a marvelous place!" the Queen added. "Full of history. I've always taken a fancy to Narnian history, you know."

"Did Mien behave himself?" the King asked, looking to where the Archenlander had dismounted and was still wearing the wreath of flowers. "And Toire? How many arguments did they get into?"

"Just one," Rilian said, when he finally managed to get a word in between all the questions and exclamations from his parents. "It was a good one, though. You ought to have been there, they went at it for what, almost an hour, wasn't it?" he turned to look at Sarasael, who was still on the horse, for confirmation.

"Um." Was all she managed to say. Because then the king and queen noticed her. "Um. Hi." Somehow, it did not surprise her that her first words to the king and queen were something as ridiculous as "um hi", but by this point she got rather used to being ridiculous.

"Here," He held out his arms and helped her down off the horse. "Mother, father, I have someone to present to you." He put his arm around her shoulders. "This is Sarasael Inari. She's from another world, and got here…well, she really doesn't know how she got here, but she did."

Sarasael curtsied politely, and didn't notice the look the king and the queen exchanged. "Your majesties," she said.

"We met in the Shuddering Wood, where she was staying with some of the people there. She tried to contact her world, but…they don't know whether they…they can't bring her home yet. So I invited her to come home with me, and she can stay here in Cair until she finds a way to get home." He smiled at her, and she felt better.

"Well, this is…quite a surprise," the Queen said. The King came down to where they both were and looked at Sarasael curiously, and she had to meet his eyes.

"Miss…Inari, is it?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"You've come from another world?"

"By accident. I really didn't mean to, it just sort of happened and I have no idea why." She stammered.

The King nodded. "And in that world, what do you do? Are you a princess?"

She shook her head. "I'm a student. I just go to school."

"School. Well, that's good. I had a tutor myself when I was younger than you. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"And what did you study in school?"

"All sorts of things. You know, history, language, literature, enchantment, music, grammar and writing, math…"

The King, at the casual mention of enchantment, gave a little start of surprise, but didn't say anything else.

"Well, then, let me welcome you to Cair Paravel." He held out his hand, and she shook it.

"Thank you, my lord." She curtsied again.

The King looked back at Rilian. "My son, there is much we need to talk about. I am glad you have returned home safely, though, and there will be a great feast tonight to celebrate your return."

"You don't have to do _that_." Rilian said, but he knew it was tradition. The King put his hand on Rilian's shoulder and went to lead him into the castle, but he stopped. "What about Sarasael?"

"Oh, don't worry about me." Sarasael said, though she was secretly afraid that they were going to leave her there and she'd have no idea what to do next.

"Ah. Well." The King and Queen exchanged glances again.

"She can come to the feast, right?" Rilian said. "And stay in the castle? There's plenty of rooms…"

"I think perhaps it would be best if she stayed in one of the city's apartments." The Queen said. "Take no offense, Lady Inari. But we do not know you very well yet. Granted, when we do, then you may stay at the castle all you like, but for now…"

"Apartments are fine. They're absolutely splendid. Great idea." She said quickly, because the idea of living in a castle was just too ridiculous, no matter what Rilian said.

"But for now," the Queen continued. "We must prepare for the feast, and you are more than welcome to come to that. Perhaps you can even tell us about your world, yes? Come with us, and you can tell us a little more about yourself, and how you and Rilian came to know each other." The Queen indicated that they all walk into the castle. Rilian took Sarasael's hand and pulled her along.

"See? Told you it would be fine." He said. "They're nice people, once you get to know them. My dad's just kind of suspicious of people because of that whole thing with Miraz I told you about. Miraz doesn't have any more allies and there aren't Telmarines either, but you know…you never lose that suspicion, I guess. Don't take offense. But my mum, she likes everyone. She's the daughter of a star. But I told you that already."

"You did." She whispered, feeling like she had to be quiet.

"Now you get to see the actual castle. You won't believe it when you do."

"I'm sure I won't." and he was right, because the castle was just as magnificent as the city…even moreso. Sarasael couldn't help but stare especially at the tapestries that adorned the walls as they walked through the halls. She found herself rather speechless.

"Oh dear. So much to get done now." The Queen said. "I'll go prepare for the feast. Rilian dear, you'd better change into something nicer. Caspian, don't fret so much, come with me, will you?" for the King was looking at Rilian and wanting to say something, but the Queen lay a hand on his arm and gave him a look. The King sighed, and nodded.

"Very well, I'll come, if you so insist. Rilian, come to the throne room when you're done changing,"

"Of course." Rilian answered. The King looked like he wanted to say something to Sarasael, but the Queen led him away too fast. Rilian exhaled sharply, and then took Sarasael's arm. "Come on, I'll show you my rooms."

She followed him down a different hall and through a door into his room, which was just as enormous and splendid as the rest of the castle. She sat down on the bed which was covered in a thick, red blanket. "How could you possibly sleep in the middle of the forest on bedrolls when you've lived here all your life?" Feeling more comfortable now that she was alone with Rilian, she lay down on the bed. "Seriously. If I lived here, I'd never leave. I'd just stay here and sleep and wake up and have the servants bring me food or books or whatever I'd need…I'd have breakfast in bed like, every morning."

"Except they don't really do the breakfast in bed thing," Rilian answered, dropping down on the bed next to her. "Only when you're sick. For the most part, it's, 'Rilian get up and come to the main hall, we have some guests for breakfast today, it's three Tapirs from all the way in Beruna, they've come this morning! So we're going to have breakfast outside today instead.'"

"Oh really."

"Really. So how do you like Cair Paravel so far? Say anything you want, there's no one else here and no one's going to bother us."

So Sarasael said exactly what was on her mind, because she trusted Rilian. "It's the biggest city I've ever seen, it's enormous and scary and while it's really nice, it's weird to see so many people. Not to mention they were all _staring_ at me when we came in. I'm sure they are nice, but it was really weird and I don't like being stared at. And your parents are nice, but I think they don't like me, because the king was giving me that _look_ that people give when they don't like someone and are trying not to show it. But the queen is nice. I think she likes me. Your father doesn't, though. I can tell already. So he's going to throw me out of the castle or something. I just know it." She finished.

Rilian sighed, and took her in his arms. "I'll address each of those things." He said, kissing her cheek. "First, yes, it's a really big city, but I'll show you all around it. You'll know your way around before long. And people stare at _everything_ that's new, so that's no big deal either. Plus, don't worry about looking like an idiot, because at least you didn't have a wreath of flowers around your neck." And she grinned at that, thinking of Mien. If anyone looked ridiculous it was Mien, but he never cared about that sort of thing. Neither did Toire, when she remembered his prancing at the Great Snow Dance. "Then…yes, there's a then…my mother likes everyone, so don't worry. My father's just suspicious because you look kind of like a Telmarine, but you're not. When he gets to know you better, he'll like you. It's the enchanting thing, you know. Since you said that you study enchantment at school. I know it's not bad, but he doesn't, because we're told about the White Witch who did magic, and she was an evil person. Just give them some time. They'll know you, and they'll know you're not evil. Things don't happen overnight. Come to the feast, and just talk with everyone. They'll know you're a good person." And their lips met again, softly this time, and Sarasael knew it would be alright. Everything would be alright when she was with Rilian, even the king and queen, even the fact that all the important people in Narnia would be here tonight.

They finally broke apart. "I've got to change now…if I'm late, my parents will ask questions." He said, and went over to his closet and began looking through everything.

There was a knock at the door. "Lady Inari? Are you in there?" it was the Queen's voice.

"Yes, your majesty," she answered softly. What was the Queen going to do to her?

"Would you mind coming with me?" Sarasael looked over at Rilian, who nodded.

"Of course, whatever you wish." She opened the door where the Queen was waiting.

The Queen put a hand on her shoulder. "You have been traveling a long time, too, and I feel you ought to have something nicer to wear to the feast tonight. Come with me, and I'll find you something, how is that?"

"That'd be nice," Sarasael murmured, looking at the ground.

"How splendid." The Queen led her down to where there were other rooms, and one room…it was an entire room full of pretty dresses. Sarasael gasped…she _loved_ pretty dresses. "Now, pick anything you like, there's plenty to choose from. Something will fit you."

"Am I really allowed to?" she looked querulously at the queen.

"Of course. There's more dresses in this castle than even I know what to do with." And Sarasael couldn't help herself…there were few things in the world that drew her attention more than pretty dresses, especially these, because a lot of them had jewels and stuff embroidered into them so they were shiny, too. While she was busy looking them over, and finally took out a sparkly blue one that looked like it would fit her, the Queen was asking her all sorts of questions. Sarasael told the queen about her life in Mayharran, her school, the other students, all she was learning.

"Can I wear this one?" Sarasael held out the blue dress, and the Queen nodded. Sarasael went behind one of the changing screen and changed into the dress, and brushed out her hair as well. When she came out, the Queen smiled approvingly.

"You look marvelous," the Queen said. "And I'm glad you've come to Cair. If you're going to see anything of our world, it ought to be our beautiful city right here. Now come, the feast is nearly prepared. You may sit with us, as I see you are a guest of our son's. You and Rilian seem to be quite good friends."

"Oh yes," Sarasael said. "He's wonderful. He's the nicest person I've ever known…even in my world, there aren't people that nice. Or that good."

"He is wonderful." The Queen agreed. She followed the queen down the hall until they reached an enormous chamber, with long tables all around, and it was laid with a magnificent spread of food. Sarasael by now was getting a little more used to the general size of things…everything here was three times as grand and huge as things in Tahalset.

Rilian looked marvelous too. He had changed into something extremely princely and his hair was combed, and he looked so handsome it fairly took her breath away. He waved to her, and it took her a moment to realize it was still Rilian under all that lordliness. He came over and took her hand, lifting it to his lips in a very royal manner. She felt her face flushing.

"You look nice," he said with a grin.

"So do you." She replied and smiled back. "And you get an entire feast in your honour. Imagine that. Must be good to be prince."

"It is. Come and sit with me? I kept a seat for you."

"By the king? Oh, I'm not sitting there."

"He won't mind. Come on, you're my guest for the evening."

The feast went better than Sarasael thought. The Narnians were all welcoming to her, and she and Rilian together shared everything (well, almost everything) that happened on their trip across Narnia, lingering especially on Toire's dancing, which got a laugh from everyone. Sarasael also told some stories of the weird things she and Hylaea did at school, leaving out the magical occurrences, and everyone laughed at those and started sharing their own school stories. Overall, it was a really fun night, Sarasael thought. She was really comfortable around all the Narnians, and even the king and queen didn't seem so bad anymore. She couldn't wait to tell Hylaea the next time she saw her about how splendid everything was here. It almost made it not so bad, the fact that she…she probably wasn't going home anytime soon.

The feast lasted into the night, until half the people fell asleep at their places and the king and queen decided that they should get some sleep, too. Sarasael was allowed to stay in one of the spare rooms for the night, and it was decided that she would get a room in one of the local apartments tomorrow.

Sarasael lay in the enormous bed, staring up at the canopied ceiling. This was really too much, she thought. Too much for one second year student. Traipsing across half the country of a new world that no one knew about, falling for a prince and having him fall for her too, and now she was staying overnight in a castle, in a grand huge room, like she was some sort of royalty.

Aresia, she thought sleepily, thinking of the great weaver believed to weave the lives and events of the world together. Thank you. For Aresia had woven her into Narnia, and even though she missed her world, and she missed her friends and family…she knew she'd return to them someday, and right now she felt confident that she would. They'd bring her back, and until then, Aresia had given her this world. Aresia had woven her into the beautiful land of Narnia and was showing her life, and love, giving her an experience and such happiness she knew she would remember even once she got home. The weaver knew what she was doing, and Sarasael thanked her for it.


	8. Chapter 8

((scoli727, thank you for your review, it is much appreciated! I am glad you are enjoying the story thus far. And I do know about the contemporary language and apologize for it. This story was my first fanfiction, and I tackled it when I was a senior in high school...the early parts, at least...and my grasp on the language of the world wasn't the best. It would be different if I wrote it now, but...my desire to edit and rewrite that much is pretty much nonexistant by this point :P So sorry for that. In Tahalset they do speak in a more modern way, so it's intentional there. But either way I am very happy you like the story. This is...I think it might be the last of the shorter chapters, lol))

There was a lovely apartment building only a few blocks from the castle, and that was where Rilian took Sarasael the next day. It was run by an old Badger family, and they had been in the business ever since the reinstating of Caspian as king. They kept a very close eye on all their tenants to make sure everything was to their liking, and also to make sure that none of the wrong sort entered. There were still some of "the wrong sort", as the matron Badger said, roaming around Narnia these days. All of Miraz's allies hadn't gone entirely, and you never know. Better safe than sorry, the Badger had said. But it was a splendid building and all the rooms were nice. The matron Badger had stood on the desk to look right eye level with Sarasael, and decided she wasn't "the bad sort, just a bit odd, that's all." If the Badger thought anything more, she didn't say it, because it was obvious that Sarasael was a friend and a favorite of the prince and assumed by Narnia to be a "good sort", as the prince would never go for any bad person.

Sarasael's new room was two floors up. It wasn't anything like the room she stayed at in the castle, but it was splendid nevertheless. It was an improvement from her dormitory at school, which she shared with Hylaea and a few other girls. Those just had beds, dressers, a fireplace, and a large closet in which all the girls had to stuff their belongings into. This room was larger and so was everything in it. There were even cabinets and a table where she could keep all her powders and supplies, and a spot where she could chop up the roots and the plants needed.

"See? Your own workstation." Rilian said, indicating that corner of the room. "And any supplies you need you can get from the stands around the city. Or you can order it. There's so much to do…just look at how unlimited your options are!" and he was right, because there were so many things being sold in the city she could get anything she needed. Rilian had given her enough money to buy her supplies.

She was settled in the room the same day, and spent the rest of the day buying clothes and a few new flasks, and a good mortar and pestle. That night, she and Rilian had dinner at one of the restaurants close by. She stayed up almost all night reading and studying and practicing, trying out all her new supplies and trying to see how much she could figure out without being taught. She resolved to buy a book on Narnian plants the next day so she could look over what existed here.

And it was in this manner that the days passed. Happily, pleasantly…Sarasael couldn't complain. She practiced and read and studied, and she spent as much time with Rilian as she could. It was almost too quickly that the month ended, and she had to contact her world again.

As with the last time, Rilian came with her and sat in front of the large fireplace with her as she threw in the powder and said the words. The Narnian air was giving her strength…she could tell that just by spending time here, her power had already increased. She could shapeshift easier and do spells that she could never do at home. It was really exciting, and she was almost reluctant to go home.

The fire flared and fizzled before showing the headmistress's office. That was another sign she was more powerful…the headmistress's office was very closely guarded and watched on all magical frequencies. The headmistress was scribbling something on some papers and muttering about students when the fire roared to life. She jumped, her chair screeching on the floor, and she turned to look at the fire.

"Yarrin's claws! Miss Inari. You had startled me." The headmistress adjusted her glasses to give a semblance of order. "Give me a minute. Miss Rian? Honestly, dear girl can't keep up with anything. Miss Rian!"

"Coming, headmistress!" she heard Hylaea's voice shout from the other room. "Don't rush me on this. It's going to work this time…it's going to…" bang. Crash, poof, and the door sparkled. "Or not." And Hylaea emerged a second later, covered in soot and flickering sparkles all in her hair. "Sorry. I think I busted your dresser again. I'll pay for it."

"Again? _Again_?" the headmistress's voice rose. "Again! Miss Rian, if you explode one more dresser, I'll throw you out of this office and you won't be able to work here any longer. And your friend is here." The headmistress pointed at the fire.

Hylaea blinked. "What? Oh. _Oh_. Sara…gods above." Hylaea's hands went to her face and she tried to scrub the soot off of it, but only succeeded in making it dirtier and smearing the soot around. "Don't I look ridiculous. But I'm sure you don't care." And Hylaea came and sat down in front of the fire.

Sarasael could already see the changes. Hylaea was almost two years older since Sarasael had last seen her. Her hair was pulled back and it made her look even older than her eighteen years (Hylaea's birthday was very early in the school year), and her eyelashes were longer and she was much prettier. She also had the distracted look of one who was really busy and doing three thousand things at the same time.

"Anyway." Hylaea reached up to touch her hair, and when she pulled her hand down, it was covered with sparkles that hovered around her fingers before vanishing with a sound reminiscent of fireworks. She looked at it curiously, then scowled. "Sparkles. Never done _that_ before." She said more to herself than to Sarasael.

"I'm going to go try and salvage my dresser." The headmistress said, annoyed. "And leave you with your friend. This is the _last time_, Miss Rian. Make note of that." And the headmistress left and went into the other room that Hylaea just came from.

"Well." Sarasael was suddenly struck with having no idea what to say.

"Sorry about that. I…um…hey, Sara, how are you?" Hylaea said finally, and Sarasael could tell that Hylaea didn't really know what to say either. "Oh, and hi Sara's friend, what's up with you?"

"That's you," Sarasael poked Rilian.

"Oh. Hi, Sara's other friend, I have to say I'm doing fine." Rilian said to Hylaea.

"You keeping my friend safe?"

"Er…yes, yes everything's fine."

There was another moment of awkward silence. Finally Rilian said, "I think I'll go and check on the thing in the other room too. And leave you guys to talk about your…I don't know, whatever you talk about Tell me when you're done." he gave Sarasael a hug and pressed his cheek to hers, and she closed her eyes. Then he got up and left, leaving her alone in the room with Hylaea.

"Well that was interesting. How long has this been going on?" Hylaea asked, crossing her legs and propping her head up in her hands. Now she looked more like the Hylaea she knew.

"How long has what been going on?" Sarasael asked.

"You and…that guy. Forget his name, it's been a long time. Can't expect me to remember someone's name after a year. Forget _my_ name sometimes. No one says 'Hylaea go get me that', now it's all, 'Hey you, I want the damned book on _hydrophysics_, can't you read?'"

"Hydrophysics?"

"Yeah. I'll get back to that. Anyway, you and that…that guy, the one that just left."

"Rilian?"

"Yeah him! _That_ was his name. He was a pretty nice person the last time we met…seemed to like you a lot. Could tell that you did too. Pretty obvious, no offense. You're going out with him now?"

"What! Hylaea!"

"Just asking." Hylaea shrugged. "It's really obvious. Again, sorry. But you are."

"I am." Sarasael sighed. "I just hope everyone else hasn't noticed."

"They probably haven't. I just notice because…well, I'm still at school and people do this _all_ the time at school. Anyway, congratulations. He seems like a nice enough guy, and you deserve to have someone like that while you're there. And would you look at that? You're the first one to have a boyfriend, and I'm two years older than you. What's up with that. You going to marry him?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous, I only just met him."

"Well, you're sixteen," Hylaea shrugged. "You still have time. Take him back with you, eh? Bring someone from another world here. Everyone'll love it. If not, you know, it'll last while you're there."

"Guess so." There was a pause. "While I am here. You still can't bring me back."

"Er…no. Not yet. But we're developing theories! I'm going to get to that in a minute."

"I had a feeling." Sarasael said grimly. "I mean, part of me was expecting…hoping…that you'd be able to, but I figured it wouldn't happen. I'm just thinking of this as an extended vacation right now. Plus, it's really not so bad."

"Let's hear. You go first, then I'll tell you everything, okay?"

"Alright." And Sarasael told Hylaea all that passed in the month since they had last spoken.

"Ooh. Wow. A castle." Hylaea looked impressed. "And I'd love to have a prince to buy me stuff. I think you definitely got the better end of the deal, Sara." Hylaea scratched her nose. "You're getting to experience so much, it's really splendid. Do you mind if I tell the others some of this? I mean, not the personal stuff obviously, but just your general experience in Narnia. They'll be fascinated to know what it's like."

"Sure, but now you have to tell me who these people are."

"Oh! Right!" Hylaea perked up. "Okay, so I got the summer internship with the magistrate. She started a whole group for the other world studies…that's your group, Sara. She started a whole group for you…it's unofficially called the Inari project. They're getting a lot of work done, and taking more steps in theory and practice than they ever have before. It's so exciting! And I got to work on it over the summer with them. The headmistress is letting me work in her office this year, because I've already gotten accepted to university. With a scholarship, too. It's going to be so exciting, because once I graduate university, the magistrate already promised me that I'd have a place in her research team." Hylaea finished, her eyes bright and excited, and she looked like, were she and Sarasael still in their old dorm, she would have squealed and fell off the bed in sheer enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm was only curbed by the fact that she was in the headmistress's office.

"On her _team_? You're going to be working with the magistrate?"

"Yeah. And her research. Is that not the most amazing thing ever? And we're going to get you back, and see, all will not be lost. When we _do_ get you back, you'll have to join the team immediately because all your knowledge and other world expertise is going to be needed. You can continue learning while you help the team. So we're going to end up together anyway. It's all going to work out, Sara, you just watch." And Hylaea had that dreamy idealistic look of one who believes every single thing she says. Most people who were about to graduate had that look, because they believed that the entire world was awaiting them and their talents.

"I don't think a 'congratulations' is quite sufficient." Sarasael said, getting caught up in her friend's enthusiasm. "But I'll say it anyway. Congrats, Hylaea. You're going to do wonderful in university and I can't wait until I can come home and work with you again. How are my parents? I really want to see them again. Even Mordian."

"Oh. Yeah. The family." Hylaea rubbed her nose again. "The next time we speak, I'll have your mother here. She's working today, everyone's working today. Mordian got married last week."

"_What?"_

"Yeah. It was really awkward, because I was invited and went out of respect but it was weird seeing Mordian actually be serious for once." Hylaea continued to tell Sarasael of everything that happened in the year…Mordian's marriage, and how much her parents missed her, the graduates, and how the summer internship went, and school and how Hylaea hated her old roommate so much that she managed to get a room all to herself for her last year in school. By the end, Sarasael was feeling almost dizzy, so overwhelmed with the amount of things that had happened in her world in only a year. And it still felt like a month, and she really wanted to see her mother again more than anyone else in the world.

"And that's pretty much it." Hylaea finished, out of breath and still covered in soot. "That's the most I can update you with. Five minutes more, I know!" she called to the headmistress who had come back in and was tapping her watch. "Sorry." She apologized to Sarasael. "It takes a lot of power to keep this connection open on both sides and if we use too much, that's bad for the other lessons the rest of the day. Can't keep doing this." Hylaea sighed. "Sara, I'm so sorry we can't bring you home yet. But you know how hard we're working, right? You've got my word on that. Say, next time…what do you say another month, maybe? Contact us again. I'll bring your mother here so you can talk to her, okay? I'm sure you miss her, and so does she because she talks about you all the time and after this I'm going to have to wander down to your house and talk to her."

"Yeah. No, I understand." Sarasael answered, but she really didn't. They should be working harder, she thought. Working as hard as they could to bring her back. It had been a long time already, they should have at least something done! But nothing, and she was still trapped here. She knew it had been too much to hope for today, but at the same time she couldn't deny that the hope _was_ there. And she also wanted to see her mother again…and Mordian got married? He was the last person in the world that Sarasael could see getting married. "It's okay. Next time, right?"

"Next time." Hylaea nodded. "But…don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to promise you anything. I don't know if it'll be fine next time. But we'll work on it, okay?"

"Now, Miss Rian." The headmistress said.

"Okay. One month, is that good? I'll look forward to talking to you again." Hylaea went to reach her hand through the flames to touch her friend's hand, but jerked it back when she only got burned. "I miss you too, Sara. A lot."

"So do I." There was more Sarasael wanted to say, but it was too late. Hylaea gave a little wave and then the fire went out again. There was always more Sarasael wanted to say, but there was never any time to say it.

It wasn't that she didn't like Narnia. She loved it, and she loved Rilian and knew that she could never forget him. And Narnia was a beautiful land with so much to study…her power was growing here, and even self-taught, Sarasael knew she would soon be just as powerful as the best enchanters back in Tahalset. There was something about the Narnian air that led to a growth in strength and magic and energy. And there were the Narnian plants to study…she still didn't know which plants Narnia had and which ones they didn't, and she had to know what powders she'd be able to make. And the people were wonderful…not just Rilian. There were Mien and Toire, they were unforgettable. Even Stalis. And the king and queen weren't too bad once you got to know them. She liked their company, and she did want to spend more time in Narnia.

Just not be _trapped_ here. There was a difference between staying somewhere you liked voluntarily, and staying there because you had no other choice. She would much rather be able to travel back and forth between her home and here, and she wanted to show Rilian all of Mayharran so he could see where she lived. But that still wasn't an option, and judging from what Hylaea said, it wasn't going to be an option for a long time yet.

And now everything was changing back home. Hylaea was going to graduate, and she was already favored in the eyes of the headmistress and the magistrate. She was going to university and getting in the magistrate's research team, where she'd be able to work with Tahalset's best and brightest. And Mordian got married…the very idea was just preposterous. Mordian, the last time she saw him, was your typical male…overconfident, egotistical, and…well, Mordian loved the ladies and the ladies loved him.

The homesickness was almost too much for her. It was the sort of feeling that Sarasael, as a naturally optimistic person, had ignored and pushed aside and pretended that it didn't exist ever since that snowy night under the tree with Rilian. She gave hardly a thought to home, preferring to revel in the happiness of the moment. But, all the gods be damned, it was _there_ and now she realized just how far from home she was. And how she may never go back, may never see her friends and family again, and even if she did, things would be so far changed that…that…

Disappointment was so exhausting, and she had a feeling that she'd have to get used to it.

"Sara? You done, can I come in?" She didn't say anything, but Rilian came in anyway. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "That bad, huh?"

"Everything's changing now," she said, her voice soft. "Like, everything. I can't even hold on to it anymore. By the time I go back, my whole world's going to have changed."

"I know. I figured that…with time passing and everything." He sighed and put his arms around her. She stood up and did the same, embracing him and burying her head into the regal material of his shirt.

"They should have done something," she said. "They're my family, they're my friends, they're _my _world and they should have _done something. _Something besides theories and projects and…and…because they're _my _people and should be able to help,"

"I know." He stroked her hair, running his hand through her blond curls. "But I still keep my promise. You can stay here with me as long as you like. Narnia will always be your home, and I'll always be there for you. You'll never be alone as long as I'm with you." And she believed him, as she always did, because he was all she had now in this world. She didn't know how long she'd be here, but it would be a long time…she had a feeling that it would be, and she would depend on him every minute. He was the one person she could count on, who cared for her in this still strange place.

"You promise."

"Of course I do. You have my word as prince."

"Then I believe you." She managed a small smile.

He reached out a finger and stroked her cheek. "I do love it especially when you smile." He said. "Now what do you say I'll show you downtown?"

"I'd like that, yes."


	9. Chapter 9

Perhaps it was foolish…no, it _was _foolish…to put so much faith into someone she barely knew, but it happened anyway. Rilian soon became a main focus in her life…and she in his…and it was not long before people began noticing this. But they all turned a blind eye to it, knowing that it was perfectly alright for someone of another world to become friends with the prince, and it would work out well for Narnia in the end. The idea of marriage was looming up quickly, because people, especially princes, married young. But Rilian and Sarasael didn't even think of that, so caught up in each other they were.

Two months passed fairly quickly. Sarasael spoke to her people again, to her mother and her friend, but with still no change. But she wasn't expecting anything. Then the third month began, and so did the first accident.

Having no one to teach her how to use her power, her magic, and how to properly make powders, everything she was doing here was self-taught. She worked her way through the manual in her room, finding plants all over Narnia and using them in accordance to what the book said. There were several powders she couldn't recreate…her white powder, communication, and a few others that weren't crucial but just helpful in everyday life. That was terrible, because she needed that to speak with her people, so she'd have to use communication as sparingly as possible and pray that they found a way to bring her back sooner.

It wasn't easy to be self-taught either. There was so much she wanted to ask the headmistress, but instead she had to figure it all out herself. That lead to a lot of failed powders, misplaced magics, and scorched eyebrows. She was glad that her room was higher up than the rest, and for the most part couldn't smell that occasional scent of burnt rubber and rotten wood that came of a mistake in the amount of ingredients put into something.

It was really late at night, and Sarasael decided she wasn't going to give up…or sleep…until she got this one done. It looked like it wouldn't be too hard; this powder was only used to allay hunger for a short amount of time when traveling great distances. The ingredients had to be added in precise amounts and in a certain order, and overuse of ivy stems in this would be disastrous. Everyone else in the apartments had gone to bed, the moon and stars were out, and Sarasael had several candles lit on her desk and was chopping ivy stems in the precise amount of two centimeters thickness. It was excruciating work, and her eyes were tired from focusing on this all day. First she had to read and try to understand the theory, and do the exercises out of the book and make sure she got them right, and now it was time for the actual practice.

She checked the temperature of the cauldron. Finally, it was hot enough. She added the first three ingredients, five minutes apart, and then waited another ten before adding the ivy stems. Only one at a time…how many had to be added? Three? Four? Oh damn, she forgot…well, four sounded right, hopefully that wouldn't…

The fourth stem fragment hit the mixture in the cauldron. For a second nothing happened, and Sarasael relaxed. Then the fire turned a vicious and sickly yellow color, and imploded.

The shockwave coming off the implosion threw Sarasael back, and she hit her head hard against the wall. The front of the bed was shattered, and so were her mortar, pestle, and half of her other good cauldron. And the fireplace imploded with the fire, sending debris…all the way down through the rest of the building. The force shattered the floor three floors down, and stopped just above the entrance.

Loud screams echoed through the hole she just made in the floor. There were cries from below, startled exclamations, and a few barely muffled swear words. Sarasael didn't get up…she felt something trickling down her neck, and reached up to touch it. There was a sticky, bloody wound on the back of her head. She didn't want to move at all, and knew in a second she'd get a horrible headache to go with the force that her head struck the wall. The screams increased, and she closed her eyes in hopes that it would shut them out. She didn't mean to hurt anyone.

When she opened her eyes again, it was much later, and the Badger was shaking her shoulder. There was a hard, curious look on the Badger matron's face, and once Sarasael opened her eyes, the Badger stepped aside. And the headache took its place, so strong that she had to close her eyes, and press her hands to her eyes in an effort to distract herself from the pain. She tried to move her head, but it hurt even worse when she did that.

She opened her eyes again, and the Badger was still there.

"Miss Inari," the Badger said. "Are you alright?"

"No." Sarasael said. She turned her head very slowly to her table…at least that was still intact. All her powders and her books had been protected by the spells she put onto them, so they were still safe. She just had to somehow get to her healing powder, because she knew there was some of it left. She didn't know if she'd be able to use it though, not with her head hurting this much. But the thought was fixed in her mind, and she'd have to try. "Can you get me my belt over there on the desk?" she asked hoarsely, knowing it sounded absurd to any normal ears but not caring at this point. She felt her head was about to explode, and coherent thoughts weren't forming. All she knew was that she _had_ to get to her belt and try to do something…she'd worry about everything else later.

The Badger didn't move, only eyed her warily.

"Please?" she added.

Finally the Badger obeyed, bringing her the things she wanted, with an extreme reluctance. She fiddled with each pouch, not really knowing what she was doing, but knowing with her innate sense as an enchantress when she found the right one. She took out some of the red healing powder and sprinkled it over her head, finding the words she had memorized years ago and saying them. There was a faint pop and a sizzling sound, and she could feel the wound in the back of her neck healing, and the headache diminishing slightly (though not all the way), and it was a lot easier to form coherent thought.

She let out a sigh of relief and pushed herself up into a better sitting position. It was then that she realized the matron Badger was standing several feet away from her, looking at her with an expression of fear and horror.

"What is it?" Sarasael asked.

"What did you do?" the Badger asked. Sarasael reached up to touch the back of her head again. The wound had gone, but the dried blood was still there, and she could feel the scratches on her face from where the debris struck her.

"Nothing, I just…"

The Badger's claws were out now. "The upper levels are fine, but you blew up your entire fireplace and a hole in the floor all the way down to the first level." The Badger's voice was tense and mixed with anger. "A dwarf, two Hares, and a young Mole were injured. I don't know what you've done, but I've never seen anyone do something like that before. Now you put powder on your head and say mystical words and you are healed?" The Badger's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the claws were making marks in the wood.

"Oh! How badly injured? I didn't mean to do that! Something…I measured something wrong, I was making something and didn't do it right." Sarasael stammered. "Yarrin's claws, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I'm so sorry." She knew her apology was inadequate. "I am. And oh, that, it was just healing, I…must of…hit my head really hard, I don't really remember. I had to do it." She managed to stand up, swaying on her feet as the blood rushed out of her head, leaving her momentarily dizzy. Then she saw the destruction and felt even worse. There was debris all over her room, and nothing left of the fireplace. It was only one miscalculation, but it was a _really_ bad one.

She sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands. "Gods, I'm so sorry." She said to the Badger. "The injured ones…can I see them? I can help heal them. It's the least I can do."

"No!" Spat the Badger. "Keep away from them. I don't trust your…creations, or whatever they are. You nearly destroyed half of my building, I won't let you near my other tenants!"

"But I didn't mean…"

"No words! You stay here until I can figure out what to do with you." The Badger growled, and Sarasael knew better than to get in the way of an angry Badger. "Don't move. Don't try and leave. I have to help the others." And with that, the Badger lumbered out the open door and down the stairs.

Sarasael picked her way over to the hole. There was only an outline where the fireplace was. The stone wall was scorched, and she peered down into the hole…it was a _big_ hole. She winced…it was worse than she had thought at first. At home it would make only a mild explosion, but all the effects of her magic seemed to be enhanced in Narnia, and as a result a minor explosion in Tahalset blew a hole in three floors in a Narnian building. And injured people. She didn't want that to happen…she hadn't _expected_ that to happen! But what could she do to apologize?

"Sara! Lion's mane, what happened here?"

She whirled around to see Rilian, who had come in through the open door and saw the rubble all over the floor, and the hole.

"I can explain," She said weakly.

"I heard an explosion." Rilian replied. "We all did…ran to see what happened, and I saw it came from the apartment here. I thought someone had attacked…no idea how, though, I've never seen things explode here. I thought something happened to you…but…you look fine."

"I didn't mean to," she whispered.

"Mean to what?"

"Mean to blast a hole in this building!" came the angry voice of the male Badger who co-owned this apartment. "I don't know how she did it, but it's clear she did. And she's not denying it, is she?" the Badger fixed Sarasael with a hard stare, and she dropped her eyes. "Mum's downstairs, taking care of the wounded. We don't know yet how we're going to fix that." He glanced in the direction of the hole.

Rilian looked at Sarasael, and she could see the horrified expression in his eyes and turned away.

"I didn't mean to," she said again, but the words weren't very convincing. But she really didn't.

"Aye, I'd hope not." The Badger replied.

"Sara." Rilian's voice was strained with the effort to keep calm. "What happened? You can tell me, at least. Leave us a moment, good Badger." The Badger grumbled but obeyed, but didn't close the door all the way.

Sarasael immediately said everything, the words pouring from her mouth before she could stop them. Rilian listened, looking concerned, but she could still tell he was afraid.

"And what now?" she asked, not wanting to know the answer. "I didn't meant to do it, please, tell me you believe me! I didn't want to hurt anyone. It was just a small mistake."

He put a hand on her shoulder, but didn't draw her into his embrace as he usually would. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I believe you. I know you wouldn't do something like this on purpose, but them…I don't know what they're going to believe. Things don't just explode like this every day…in fact, I don't have any memory of something ever exploding. It's…not going to look good."

"Oh, gods."

"But I'll find a way to fix it. You…won't be able to stay here any longer, though…I mean…I don't think the Badgers will let you, they told me that when I came in here looking for you. I'll find you another place to stay, don't look at me like that…and try to smooth things over here the best I can."

"I want to help fix it." She said quickly.

"I…don't think that would be the best idea." Rilian admitted.

"Why not?"

"Sara, they think you caused this intentionally."

"But I didn't!"

"I know, and so do you, and I will do my best to convince them otherwise. But…the old matron Badger said that you used magic."

"And what's wrong with that?" Sarasael demanded. "You said lots of people used magic here. You said your father met some magician out in one of those Eastern Islands…"

"Yes, but that was one magician. Narnia doesn't get many of them, and certainly not many women who use magic. The last one…" Rilian trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. But Sarasael already knew what he was going to say. The last one, of course, being the White Witch, enslaved Narnia, killed hundreds, reign of terror…all of that.

Sarasael wasn't like that. She just happened to be an enchantress. There were many enchantresses back home, and she was just waiting to get home still.

"Please tell me you don't think I'm like that." She demanded, meeting Rilian's eyes. She held his gaze firmly, and he didn't look away.

"No, Sara, I don't think you're anything like that." He answered, and she took strength in his sureness. "They won't, either. Don't worry, I'll convince them of that, and help them rebuild here. I'm sorry they won't let you help, but trust me…it'll be for the better."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause this much trouble." She answered.

"Now who's the one apologizing?" he said humorously, and she gave him a small smile. It wasn't easy to break tension like this, though he seemed to do it pretty well. That was why she loved him.

"So where am I going to go?" she asked. It was too soon to know, but she didn't want to stay here and cause any more trouble.

"I don't know." Rilian replied truthfully. "I know you need a place…I'll find you somewhere further downtown. I want to stay closer to you as well, but right now I don't know what's going to happen. Do you have any paper?"

"Over there, in my drawer. You can check and see if there's any left." Rilian crossed the room and opened the drawer. Thankfully, the explosion hadn't reached the furthest desk and the paper in it was still intact. Rilian wrote something quickly on the paper, and handed it to Sarasael.

"This is for the Penguins Inn downtown. Take whatever things you have and go outside and you'll find a carriage somewhere that'll be willing to take you. Give them this and they'll let you stay there for awhile, okay? I'll come as soon as possible. I just have to talk to them here and try to get things settled. I promise." He was still looking really worried, and by now they could hear many more voices through the hole in the floor.

"How do I get out? If I go out the front, I don't know what they'll do to me."

"Nothing bad, I assure you. Narnians aren't bad like that. But I'll show you out the back way." Rilian waited until Sarasael had gathered all her belongings, trying to keep her hands from shaking too badly, then took her hand and led her down the stairs a different way until they came out a back door and into the cool night air. From this side, you couldn't see the destruction. It looked just like any other apartment building, and the rest of Cair Paravel was unharmed. But there were crowds of people gathering around the apartment in front.

Sarasael put the hood of her cloak up over her face. She knew she had no reason to hide…it was an accident, and she would be willing to do whatever she could to help fix it! It was an honest mistake, if she could only explain it to them.

But from the reaction of both the Badgers and Rilian, she got the feeling that they wouldn't accept her explanation, if they listened to it at all. It was clear she couldn't stay here anymore. She pulled the bag with her things close to her chest, shivering, although it wasn't that cold out.

"I have to go back now." Rilian said, keeping his voice low. "You just find a carriage and tell them where to go. I'm sure there's one around here somewhere." She nodded. "I'll come as soon as possible."

"Just make sure they know I didn't mean it."

"I'll tell them. Don't worry…I'll fix it." He said, cupping her cheek in his hands. "I promise that, too. Now go, quickly!"

Sarasael didn't want to, but Rilian was gone before she could say anything else. Instead she adjusted the bag on her shoulder and set off down the cobblestoned streets, trying not to look behind her. Finally she signaled a carriage. The driver was a large Shrew who squinted to see her in the dark.

"Where to?" he asked. "And why so late?"

"Penguins Inn," Sarasael replied. "Please. I just have to get there."

"Anything to get away from that commotion." Replied the Shrew, jerking on the reins. Shrews liked their dark solitude, and the street right now was anything but that. She was grateful for that, for it meant he wouldn't ask any questions. She stared out the window as the carriage went through the streets, only vaguely recognizing the streets at night. During the day, she went everywhere with Rilian as her guide. At night, she was totally lost.

Finally, they reached the inn. She dug into her bag and paid the Shrew what he wanted, then walked up the wooden steps and knocked on the door. It was far enough away where they probably hadn't heard what happened at the apartment yet, or at least she hoped.

It was really late by this point, so the only people awake was the innkeeper himself, a Tapir keeping a close eye on the Chipmunk who was cleaning the bar. Both looked over as Sarasael entered.

"Guests!" squeaked the Chipmunk, throwing down the cloth and scampering over to her, clearly happy to be given something to relieve him of his chore. "I'm Ralfur and that's Bormin, welcome to Penguins Inn!" Ralfur held out a paw to Sarasael, who shook it gingerly.

"It's awfully late." Bormin's voice rumbled. She liked his voice…it was deep and melodic. "All the other tenants have retired."

"I have a letter." Sarasael fumbled in her pocket for the note Rilian wrote, and went over to the bar and put it in front of Bormin. She hadn't read the letter…she was too preoccupied with other things, and figured Rilian knew what he was talking about. Bormin read it, then showed it to Ralfur.

"Prince's friend, are you?" Ralfur chattered. "How lovely. He doesn't have too many close friends, that prince of ours. But he's a good child, and I suppose then you are, too. And if he says you are to stay, then you are to stay, aye?" Ralfur looked questioningly at Bormin, who nodded.

"Second floor." He rumbled.

"Come this way, then, this way, come." Ralfur darted ahead of Sarasael. She picked up her bags and tried hard to keep up with the energetic Chipmunk. "Ought to thank you for coming. He's gonna have me clean all night! All night, he will. I hate cleaning. Always saying, Ralfur, go clean this! Go clean that! Clean, clean, clean, Chipmunks are good for more than cleaning! Oh here's your room, here!" The room was smaller than her old one, and it only had a bed, a dresser, and a small desk with a chair. She'd have to put all her things on the small desk and stuff what she could into a dresser. It didn't have the nice fireplace and the workshop that her old room did, but she could make a small fire if she had to. And be more careful. _Much_ more careful. How shameful it was for an enchantress of her level to make such a grave mistake as she just did…

"Thank you," she said to Ralfur. "Here, here's an extra crescent, go…er…buy something and take a break from all that cleaning." She was lucky she had money left over from paying the Shrew.

"Thank you! Thanks, thanks!" chattered Ralfur, taking the crescent and giving her a toothy smile before leaving. She threw her bags on the ground and took off the cloak, but was too tired to undress and bathe. Instead she went over to the window, staring out at this street of Cair, which was still untouched by the news. It was quiet and peaceful, but she didn't have her hopes up for it staying that way for long.

She'd explain everything to the king and queen if they had any questions and do whatever they wanted in order to make her pay for this accident. She knew Rilian would stand by her and it would work out in the end. After all, nothing stayed blissful and easy forever. Things happened and it was inevitable. And she'd fix it.

She and Hylaea had always managed to fix everything they'd gotten themselves into back at home. She'd just have to learn to do that here, too.


	10. Chapter 10

Things were not proving so easy for Prince Rilian. As soon as he saw Sarasael safely off, he ran back inside to the bottom of the apartment. There, the two Badgers were taking care of the wounded. Rilian immediately found a bandage shoved in his hand, and he found himself bandaging the forepaw of a Hare. The paw was cut up pretty badly…the Badger had cleaned off the worst of the blood, but Rilian could see that the bones were crushed from falling stones. Bandaging would do this Hare no good…he needed better medical care than they could provide. He needed someone to try and get the bones set, if that was at all possible…hand bones were very tiny. Sarasael could have helped, Rilian thought, as the Hare bit back a scream as he started to try and wrap the bandages around. She had that funny healing powder of hers. It was magic, and everyone was suspicious of magic, and this was _definitely_ not the time or place for it, but it still could have helped. Just sprinkle a little on and say the words…he'd seen her heal using it before. It would have been perfect at this moment…no doubt the little hand bones would knit back together and the bleeding would stop. Instead, the Hare was left with Rilian, who knew hardly anything about medics, and the two Badgers who were trying their best but knew even less than Rilian did. Now this poor Hare was probably going to lose his hand.

But Rilian knew that as much as it would have helped to have her here, it was better that she wasn't. The Badgers were furious at what she had done, even though it was an accident. And Rilian could understand why…he'd seen her do magic before, she'd even let him try some on occasion. But he never knew that a simple miscalculation like that could blow up half a building. And as much as he was a loathe to admit, it frightened him. Magic like that was never seen in Narnia in his lifetime.

The Hare yelped as Rilian tied the bandage off.

"So sorry." Rilian apologized. "It's the best I can do right now. You need to go to a healer straightaway, you understand?"

The Hare nodded. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Tonight, if you can. Listen, there's one open down on Arctic Way. If it's not open, the healer's house is next door. Go there and tell them I sent you. Your paw is badly broken…I've stopped the bleeding but the bones need to be set." He explained. The Hare cradled his paw close to his chest and nodded, his eyes clouded with pain. "At least your arm isn't broken."

"Thank goodness for small favors." The Hare whispered. He looked at the matron Badger, who jerked her head, indicating that the Hare could leave. He did gratefully.

"What else?" Rilian asked, walking back over to the Badger matron. It was hard to get there…he had to try and squeeze past half the people who lived in the apartment who had all ran down to come see what happened.

"Clear out!" barked the matron Badger, who introduced herself earlier as Marley. "All of you who aren't injured, go outside until we figure out what to do with you! Most of the rooms are undamaged, but we just have to send someone up to check while we take care of the rest down here. Go! Go, come on now, shoo!" And the room was quickly cleared, as no one wants to get in the way of an angry Badger.

The other Badger, Madraly, had settled the young Mole onto a couch. The Mole had a concussion, and Madraly was trying to keep him awake. It was not an easy task.

"Hold on," Marley said. "There's…Madraly, that Mole, how is he holding up?"

"Not too well, mum." Replied Madraly. "I'm going to get Nirisath, that naiad who lives further down by the river, she's brilliant at healing."

"Yes, go do that, and hurry!" Marley said urgently. She lumbered over to the Mole and put her paws on the chair, heaving herself up so she could sit next to the Mole and keep him awake. Madraly hurried out the door, trying to get to Nirisath as fast as he could. "Your majesty, could you kindly help this Mole? I still have much to do."

"Of course." Rilian waited until Marley got off the chair and then picked up the Mole himself, persuading him to stay awake. Normally one wouldn't hold a Mole like this, but desperate times, after all.

The rest of the night was like this. Nirisath arrived and cared for the Mole and the other injured folk. The two Badgers assessed the damage and how much it would cost to repair it, not to mention where they'd have to find enough Dwarves who would be willing to rebuild. Then there was finding out where the people who lived in the wrecked rooms would stay, how to repay _them_ for the loss of their belongings, and most importantly, how that the two Badgers wouldn't lose their reputation. After all, they let a magic user (worse, a female magic user) into their apartments, and she ended up blowing up some of it. People would ask questions. Magic always raised questions, especially since this girl was from another world and wasn't given her magical gifts by Aslan. It was too close to the idea of the White Witch for comfort, though this girl hadn't killed anyone and never tried to and apologized profusely for her accident, if one could call it an accident.

King Caspian and his queen were over soon, coming in through the throng of people into the main entrance where Nirisath was busy with the Mole and Rilian stood by watching and waiting for whatever other orders Marley was going to give.

The Queen stayed closer to the Badgers and proceeded to help Nirisath, while Caspian went over to his son, looking very grave and worried.

"I'm hearing stories already." He said, not even bothering with formalities. "I've heard that this girl of yours did all this. They're calling her a witch and said she used magic to blow it up and heal herself, and that she's gone now and no one can find her. Is this true?"

It had only been a few hours and already word was spreading across Cair. "She didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident." Rilian said.

"But you're not denying that she did it?"

"I'm…" He wanted to deny it, wanted to protect her from the words and rumors that would be spreading and from the wrath of anyone in the area and in Cair. He didn't want anything bad to happen to her, not his Sara. "There's an explanation, if you'll be willing to listen."

"Perfectly willing." King Caspian said, looking squarely at his son.

Rilian explained the whole thing the best he could, though it wasn't a very good explanation because he understood virtually nothing about ingredients and all the powders she made and how they were made. But he was very clear that it was an accident and she didn't mean any of it and wanted to help fix it if she could. He emphasized that as often as he could.

The king believed him, knowing his son wouldn't lie. But it still wasn't a good thing, that such a disaster would happen here with this new girl so quickly. And where had she gone? She wasn't even here to talk about what she did.

"This isn't going to be easy." King Caspian said, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "First we have to take money out of the royal treasury to fix this apartment up, and also to supply the ones who lost their homes with new temporary places to stay and compensation for their damaged goods and injuries sustained." Caspian sighed. It was nice having seventeen years with no trouble. "We'll be able to do it, yes, but it will take some time. And I don't know what to you about that girl of yours."

"She's not mine." Rilian protested, but was silenced from a look from his father. Caspian and his wife weren't fools, and they both could tell how their son and that girl looked at each other. "She's just a friend."

"Nonetheless." Caspian replied. "Rilian, I want you to go immediately back to the palace and wait for us there. Your mother and I will be here some time, and it would be easier for you to just go back home and wait there until we fix things here the best we can."

Rilian opened his mouth to protest. He had to talk to the Badger still and persuade them that Sara didn't do anything wrong. He told her that he would. But Caspian gave him one of those _looks_ that fathers give that make their children know to do exactly what they said, the moment they said it.

"Yes, father," he replied, bowing slightly and then going to leave.

Rilian found himself on the crowded street with everyone asking him questions as to what was going on. He waved off their questions by saying he had to go back to the castle now on the king's orders and that his father would be able to answer any questions they had.

He had no choice but to return home. You didn't disobey your father when he gave an order like _that._ It would be too risky to try and visit Sarasael now, not to mention everyone would notice. He went home as quickly as he could, making his way through all the more secret passages of Cair Paravel so he wouldn't be found and bothered by anyone. He didn't want to have to explain everything to more people. It would be around all of Cair by tomorrow morning.

Rilian reached his room at the end and locked the door, bolting it shut. He didn't feel like anyone bothering him right now, and that included his parents.

This was ridiculous. And it wasn't supposed to happen. Sarasael wasn't a bad person; he'd just have to convince them of that. They would believe him in the end. But this was going to make things much harder. He loved Sara more than he thought he would at first, she was everything to him and he'd do all he could to protect her. He was eventually going to ask her to marry him…she said she didn't know how long she'd stay in this world, but judging from what she told him, it was going to be awhile. And in Narnia, people married young. And if she had to go back then so be it…it would be a good thing, then they could spend time in each other's world. That would certainly give him a broader perspective of things. His father being the first to sail to the Eastern edge of the world, and he, Rilian, being the first to visit another world and live there…

It would all work out in the end. Narnia had a tendency of doing that, having things work out. Even the Hundred Years' Winter did, and no one thought it would ever end. Plus, it was only one incident and could have happened to anyone. So it would be fine, Rilian thought. Right now everyone was just panicking.

And eventually panic would cease.

* * *

Sarasael didn't leave her room for five days. The news spread around the city by the end of the second, and Ralfur came up to ask her about it. She answered shortly, not wanting to say too much lest they end up being afraid of her too. Ralfur eyed her warily but didn't do anything more. He and Bormin had gotten a letter from the prince saying she had to stay there, and she couldn't be _that_ bad if she was a friend of the prince. Rilian was a good kid, all of Narnia thought. A bit boring, but generally a good kid.

Sarasael was mostly grateful that she saved her powders from the building's destruction. She couldn't make any more communication powder here, two critical ingredients didn't exist in Narnia, so she had to use it sparingly. Which meant she couldn't throw it in the fire and try to talk to Hylaea right now and ask for advice…besides, what advice could Hylaea give anyway? If the same thing happened in Tahalset, everyone would just say, oops, terrible mistake on your part, pay for damage repair. Then they would move on. That was the way it was done there.

Of course, she thought grimly, this wasn't _there_.

There was a knock at the door. Oh, damn, was it Ralfur again? What did he want?

"Who is it?" she called.

"It's just me." She heard Rilian's voice reply. He didn't announce himself like he usually did…that, she felt, was a bad sign. But it was Rilian, he had finally come to see her! That made her feel immediately better.

"Oh, hold on!" she hadn't been expecting him, and as a result looked as messy and disorganized as she felt. She yanked a brush through her blond curls in an effort to get them less tangled, and while it didn't help all that much, at least it got them lying closer to her head than before, and giving her more the appearance of a girl instead of someone who stuck her finger into a light socket. With that done, she threw on a jacket over the dress she wore to bed last night. Half her clothes she left in the old room, and they were probably either destroyed or thrown out. She only had two dresses and a jacket, and knew she'd have to go out and buy new clothes soon. That would involve leaving…but what was wrong with that? She didn't do anything _wrong_.

Sarasael opened the door, giving Rilian a grateful smile for finally showing up. He went in and closed the door. Before he could say anything, she threw her arms around him. He did the same, enfolding her in his arms and running a hand over her tangled hair.

"Five days," she whispered. "It's been only five days. I haven't left at all, I didn't know what they'd do to me if I did. Oh, this is so _stupid!_" she exclaimed, pulling away from his embrace. "I don't understand this! Why am I so afraid to leave? They're not going to do anything. I didn't do anything."

Rilian sighed. "I know you didn't."

"What about them?"

"It's…getting better." He answered hesitantly. "Everyone's alright…Nirisath the naiad helped heal them and it's no problem. We gave them money to rebuild, and it's under way."

"What are they going to do with me?" she asked helplessly.

"Er…" Rilian paused. "Well, I managed to convince my parents that you didn't do it on purpose and were honestly sorry. They want to talk to you, and when that's done, they eventually want you to pay for the damage yourself."

Sarasael collapsed into a chair in relief. That was it. Paying for the damage would be a lot and take awhile, but that was no problem. She could do that. "Do they want me to write out apologies to everyone too?"

Rilian looked blankly at her. "Why would they want that?"

"Oh nevermind. Something they do in my world."

"Oh."

"Am I allowed to stay here?" she asked then.

"Of course, there's no reason why not. And I've managed to get a job for you."

"Really!" Sarasael sat up in her chair, looking eagerly at Rilian. "What's that?" The prospect of a job was exciting. Sure, Hylaea already had one, but Sarasael was now the first to have a job in another world. Then she'd make enough at the job to pay for the damage and they'd forget all about it.

"You know Nirisath the naiad? She's a great healer and lives on the outskirts of Cair, by the Great River. She mostly works by herself, but there's been several outbreaks of pneumonia and she needs an extra hand. I told her that you were great with herbs and plants and did some healing, and she said she's willing to take you on as an assistant and pay you for it. It won't be a lot, but you'll be able to pay back before you know it."

"Work with a naiad? Rilian, that's brilliant!"

"Aw, it's nothing much." He said with a grin. "Nirisath's terribly nice, you'll like her. And they'll forget all about this before long when they see you helping with healing and stuff."

Sarasael laughed with the relief of it all. Things were working out again, she knew they would. She didn't even know what she was doing, hiding in her room and sulking and being all melodramatic these past few days. Well, that was done with. Now she'd walk outside and have a real job and it'd all be fine.

"It was my mother's idea, actually." Rilian said, picking up a spoon on Sarasael's desk and looking at it. "She heard Nirisath needed someone and put your name in. My father was really angry after what happened…you should have seen him, even I was scared. But mother's great like that, she managed to calm him down and talk him into this. Nirisath's already accepted you, and she says you start work tomorrow. It's a respectable job and my parents are fine with it. It'll make things better, you know, and soon people won't be worry about this anymore."

"You're right," she said, sitting down and waving her hand in the air. "Absolutely. I'm good at fixing things, you know, and so are you, and then this will all be settled."

"It will be,"

And they both believed it, and that seemed enough.

* * *

Nirisath crossed her legs and sat in the chair, the foam at the edges of her hair spraying the floor. She regarded Sarasael critically, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

"Hold out your hands." Nirisath ordered.

Sarasael obeyed. Nirisath leaned over and took her left hand, flipping it over. "Mm. Yes, you do have healer's hands, that's certain. How steady are you in case stitching is needed?"

"Stitching?"

"Yes, you know, particularly deep gashes need stitching." Nirisath replied.

"Oh. Well. In my world, we don't…stitch."

"What do you do, then?" Nirisath prided herself in being open to new ideas. She got some particularly good ones from Archenland when they had one of their best healers visit a few years ago. And even some Calormene ideas…though most of _those_ were barbarian and outdated…worked pretty well.

"We use magic." Sarasael replied. "But not the bad sort you're probably used to hearing about. Just magic to help with healing."

"Ah." Nirisath folded her hands in her lap. "I've heard of healing magic from some of the Lone Islands. There was a magician out there, he probably did some of that. I'm going to want to see you demonstrate some of that healing magic before giving you an answer on my ideas on _that_. Until then, how well do you know anatomy?"

"I know that." Sarasael answered. "See, I have a book that has anatomy in it." Sarasael pulled her book out of the belt pouch and handed it to Nirisath. "It has in it the information I need the most. Usually just school related stuff or magic I need to know or ingredients. But sometimes there's anatomy in it."

Nirisath opened the book. "Anatomy of a tapir. Useful if we had tapirs in this area."

"Which…we don't?"

"Hardly." She flipped a page. "Dwarves we do. And Squirrels. Hm, this is rather useful." She handed the book back to Sarasael. "So I see you know enough anatomy, but you rely heavily on magic in terms of regular healing. That can come in very useful for most injuries I think, but you must also remember that a lot of Narnians are afraid of people from other worlds using magic. So you're going to have a lot to learn." Nirisath said briskly. "Otherwise, I hear your knowledge of plants is exceptional, and that will be a great asset to me. For your first task, I want you to go out and fetch me an adequate amount of fennel, marigold, and three decent sized slabs of willow bark. When you're done, you'll show me some of that healing magic you talk about. After _that_, we'll get you started on proper techniques in stitching wounds. Go, there's not a lot of time, hurry!"

Sarasael just finished scribbling down what Nirisath wanted on a piece of paper when she was chased out. Nirisath lived actually just outside of Cair, not too far from the Great Wood. Fennel, marigold, and willow…were there any willow trees? There had to be, or Nirisath wouldn't send her out there. Or would she?

Finding the ingredients took most of the day. The willows were actually on the other side of the river, and so was the fennel. The marigold she didn't even find at first and had to ask the help of an Eagle to find it. When she got back, the first thing Nirisath did was yell at her for taking too long, and then say that the willow bark was too young but it would have to do.

Nirisath was a harsh taskmaster, though a brilliant one as well. She was kind and wonderful to her patients, but like any naiad she had the temperament of the water that she came from…soothing at times, and at other times, raging and destructive. She wasn't one for laziness, and half the time after a day of work Sarasael was too tired to do anything other than collapse in bed and sleep straight through until morning.

Nirisath found the idea of magic interesting when she saw what Sarasael could do with it. But for the most part she dismissed excessive use of magic for healing as "dependable," which in Nirisath's terms meant something that people would end up depending solely on and not know anything else. "Eventually," Nirisath said after shutting Sarasael's belt up in a closet and locking it. "You'll only use _that_ for healing and not know what else to do. And then someday you'll have something that won't respond to your magic and will have _no_ idea what to do. Nice, but not perfect. Brew the willow bark tea right now, this Beaver has a nasty headache. Dam building all day, poor thing."

Sarasael learned more about the plants and herbs of Narnia under Nirisath's direction than she learned studying at Cair. Even the best of Tahalset doctors could learn something from Nirisath. She was, in Sarasael's eyes, the best healer there ever was, even if she worked Sarasael near death every day.

"So, enjoying your job?" Rilian asked on one of the rare nights Sarasael had off. Nirisath was feeling generous and gave her one night off. Nothing more for the next month, but one night ought to be sufficient, now go do something productive and leave me alone.

"Mrf," Sarasael answered into her pillow which she was lying facedown in.

"Mrf?" Rilian replied. "Is that a good answer?"

"If by 'mrf' you mean ridiculous and _evil_ and making me do absolutely everything and biting off my head while she talks all sweet to the patients, then yeah, she's totally mrf."

Rilian laughed. "Nirisath isn't evil."

"No, but she's going to kill me with all this work before long. And I've already given all I've been paid to the royal treasury, is it any good at all?" She asked, raising her head from the pillow and propping it on her hands to look at Rilian sitting on the end of the bed.

"It's done something, yeah." Rilian answered. Not that much, but he didn't want to say that. "Before long it'll be fine."

"That's good. Because I don't know how much longer I can put up with going out into the Great Wood to fetch things. Fetch…things. Even in _school_ I didn't have to do that!"

"But I bet Nirisath is better than any of your teachers." Rilian said with the usual assurance of things in his land.

"She's different." Sarasael shrugged. "And knows a lot more about different things. Really, she's just as good…she'd do really well at my school if she wanted to come."

"Maybe she will."

"What? Her? Never. She loves her patients too much here." Nirisath did; when she wasn't yelling at Sarasael to do something, she was doting over her patients.

"But I'm sure she'd love the opportunity to go visit a new world and learn what they do there." Rilian said.

"That's true." Sarasael admitted. "She's all into foreign cures and stuff. She even has some Calormene stuff written down, she showed me that once. And she saw my magic."

"Is she against that?"

"No, she just doesn't think it's very reliable. But whatever, at least she's not scared of it."

"Nirisath's not scared of anything." That she agreed with. The day Nirisath was afraid, that would be the time to panic. "Once you've established the connection between our worlds, she can go there too, right?"

"Right." Rilian talked about that like it was a sure thing. That any day now, Sarasael's world would call her up and say, oh look, we've done it! We've finally found a way to walk between the worlds easily! And that Sarasael would be established as the ambassador between worlds, and Rilian could finally see the infamous Mayharran Girls' School and meet Hylaea, and everything would be settled. She didn't believe it, but…it _was_ a possibility. If she dismissed that even vague possibility, it would be abandoning hope forever.

There was a loud clap of thunder outside and it made them both jump. Then the rain began again in earnest. Damn rain, Sarasael hated it. Because Nirisath would send her out to look for herbs in the _rain_ and ugh, then her shoes would get all muddy and her hair would frizz out even more than it usually did. It pounded against the roof and ran down the window panes.

"I have to get back now." Rilian said, standing up. "With the rain and everything. Parents don't like me out when it _rains._" He added, rolling his eyes. "Rain is just _that_ bad, right?" What he didn't want to say was that his mother didn't like him spending that much time with Sarasael. She's a good friend, his mother said. But that's it. She didn't agree with this excess amount of time together…it made her nervous. Of what, Rilian didn't know. But Caspian agreed with her.

He still hadn't told her of their relationship. He guessed he wouldn't for another year yet, and when he did…oh, they'd hate it, yes. But it would have to be done.

"Yeah, how stupid." She agreed. Maybe he'd be able to stand up to them eventually. Even _her_ parents weren't that bad, and they were more overprotective than anyone she knew, what with her being the only girl in a family of boys. Too many brothers. "Well, when the rain stops, maybe."

"I'll be back, don't worry." He promised.

"I won't. I know you will."


	11. Chapter 11

((I know that in this chapter, I give the queen a name. I didn't want to but it couldn't be avoided, so I just asked one of my Narnia friends, and she gave me the name. If it is too much of a bother, disregard it))

The rain went for three days straight before it finally stopped. During those three days, Hylaea graduated and almost immediately went to university for summer classes. "It's in the city," she told Sarasael. "The city's huge, it's like nothing you've ever seen." Hylaea talked enthusiastically about the city and everything in it, and Sarasael couldn't help but think that it was an awful lot like Cair and they probably were the same, just in different worlds. Tahalset was just more built up…they had motorcars, while Narnia still ran on carriages and such. Hylaea was all into it and just told Sarasael _everything_ about where she was going. Then informed her just before the connection closed that Mordian's wife had a baby, and Sarasael was now an aunt. That creeped her out most of all. It was fine for a friend to go to university, but her brother got married _and_ already had a daughter. It was practically two seconds ago that Mordian was an idiot in university trying to get all the girls to sleep with him. Things were too _strange_, and as much as Sarasael missed her home and her family, she couldn't deny it would be incredibly weird when she finally went back.

Whenever that was, because they still hadn't made any progress. Sarasael didn't give up hope because she never did…she wasn't that type of person. But it was frustrating and sad, every time she spoke to her best friend knowing that it would be a long time before she did again. And she missed her family terribly. She was far too young to be away from her parents for a really long time. She wanted to write a letter and give it to her mom and dad and everyone, but they still hadn't found a way to bring things from one world to another without disastrous effects (the plant they brought once, Hylaea said, liquefied the moment it entered the lab). So no letters, no correspondence, only brief talks with Hylaea through the fires now at university. More and more, it looked like Narnia was going to be her home for a very long time.

The rain started again in earnest when she was out in the Great Wood peeling off willow bark again. Someone had caught pneumonia and she and Nirisath had to make an excess of willowbark tea in order to bring the fever down. After managing to get four good sized strips, there was a rumble of thunder. Sarasael stuffed the four strips into her bag and decided to head back to Nirisath's even though she still wasn't done. It was better than being caught in the rain.

The sky had other ideas. Another rumble of thunder, then a few drops of rain to signal the beginning of…yet another thunderstorm. Sarasael swore as she ducked out of the great woods and into the open expanse between the wood and the river where Nirisath lived. The rain poured down on her, soaking her hair and dress in a matter of minutes. She burst into Nirisath's, dripping and wet, getting water all over the floor.

Nirisath put the top on one of the cauldrons of willowbark tea. "A little rain and you come running back in?" Nirisath demanded, holding out her hands for the bark Sarasael had collected.

"It's pouring outside. That's not 'a little rain'." Sarasael replied. "Plus, you're a naiad, of course it's all just water to you."

"It is." Nirisath took the bark and put it by the fire to dry. "And it's not going to hurt anything. This is all you've brought? Ah, well, it's good enough. But now that you're here, go check on the supply of fireweed."

Sighing, not even having time to wring out her hair or change into something drier, she went into the other room and opened the pot of fireweed, getting water all over the floor. Well, it was a naiad's house, thank goodness for small favors. There was always water all over, so the rain water wouldn't make a difference.

Oh no, they were running low on fireweed too. That grew down by the river. Peering out the window, she could see it was raining too hard to go out and look for fireweed. But knowing Nirisath…

"How much fireweed?" she inquired.

"We've got about a third left." Sarasael replied.

"Oh, that won't do. Go get more."

"Now? Nirisath, it's raining."

"A little rain never killed anyone. As long as there's no flooding. The Great River is higher than usual, but it's not going to flood. A good four more days of rain like this and then it would be in danger, but right now there's nothing."

Sarasael came back into the room. "Are you kidding?"

"Kidding? I don't kid." The naiad replied. "You're wet right now, it won't matter."

"I can't go back out in that weather."

Nirisath got up from the fire and looked outside. It was raining even harder now, so hard it sounded almost like hailstones were striking the ground. Nirisath sighed. "No, you can't." She admitted. "Forgive me. I'm used to the water, that's all, you're not. Sit down by the fire and dry yourself off, girl, before you catch pneumonia too."

Sarasael gratefully dropped in front of the fire, wringing out her wet hair onto the floor. "Why the pneumonia all of a sudden?" she asked in this rare moment where neither she nor Nirisath was doing anything. "I mean, a lot of people get it, but it's not this common."

"The weather is absurd." Nirisath replied. "Raining nonstop for three days, then it stops, now it's starting again. We have strange weather like this every so often and usually a lot of people get sick during these times. It rains, everyone stays inside, and pneumonia is contagious…one person gets it and stays inside with everyone else, soon more people get it. Can't stop that…spread of disease like that in contained places." Nirisath shook her head and handed Sarasael a mug of tea, which she took thankfully. "Ah well, that's what we're here for, right?"

"Yeah." Sarasael agreed, breathing in the steam of the tea. The patients were lucky for getting this treatment all the time, she thought. Pneumonia was contained in Tahalset though…there were outbreaks still, but they were easily cured and isolated. The Tahalset doctors managed to pinpoint the exact genetics of the virus and manipulate it to formulate a more accurate cure. Sarasael didn't feel like telling them that here, though. Different worlds did things differently, and she didn't know anything about how the doctors worked with genetics.

"It'll be fine." Nirisath shrugged. "Just enough…oh, go get the door, will you? No, nevermind, I'll get it." Someone was knocking hard at the door and Nirisath went to answer.

The Otter had come out of the river supporting another Otter who was coughing violently. "We knew you were near." Said the first. "There's so much rain and the river broke apart a tree that fell a few days ago. Sempres got caught under the tree and almost drowned." Sempres coughed again and swayed against his friend.

"Yes, come in, come by the fire. Inari, victim of near drowning…you know what to do. Or should by this point."

Sarasael sighed. There was no rest for the weary, as usual. She went into the other room and first gathered some blankets, bringing the back and wrapping them around Sempres.

"Do we have essence of hirmaly?" asked Nirisath as she moved Sempres close to the fire.

"Let me check." Sarasael walked into the other room where all the herbal stores were. Essence of hirmaly, where was it…she found the right pot, but opening it, she discovered there wasn't any left, and winced. Sarasael came back into the room, looking apologetically at Nirisath. "There's none left." She said.

Nirisath sighed and ran a hand over Sempres's forehead. "He's stable, but there's still water in his lungs. A substantial amount." She could tell that because she was a naiad and had that close tie to water. "I need that essence…wait, Sarasael, don't go looking for it yet. There's no way to find any right now. That magic you do, that you showed me? You're so intent on using it? Now's your chance. It's the only thing I can think of to help this poor Otter right now."

Sarasael nodded, grateful to be given the opportunity to do something she was more familiar with. She reached down into her belt and located the red powder used for healing. She had made a lot of it since the incident in the apartment in the hopes that they would let her help with the healing, but no such luck there. She had plenty now though. Nirisath, unlike the rest of Narnia, seemed perfectly accepting of her magic. Her and Rilian were so far the only ones she knew. No…the people in the Shuddering Wood. They were suspicious but accepting, too.

Sarasael went over to the shivering Otter. "Hey there," she said softly. "Sempres, is it?" The Otter nodded. "That must have been terrible for you, almost drowning." Sempres nodded again. "And I'm sure you're feeling dreadful." This was the way that Nirisath told Sarasael she should talk to the patients, softly like this so they'd feel at home. "My name's Sarasael and I'm with Nirisath. She's teaching me how to heal like her." A third nod. "So I'm going to help you, alright? I'm going to give you something and you'll feel better." Sempres was too tired to disagree.

"Essence of hirmaly!" said the first Otter, whose name was Millie. Millie was very interested in healing. "That's what it is, right? I couldn't find any of it or I would have given it to him already."

"Very good!" Nirisath said, smiling at Millie. "Who told you this?"

"My mother." Replied Millie. "She knows a lot about healing."

"Well, good for her!" Nirisath nodded with approval. "Unfortunately, I too am running low on essence of hirmaly. As you no doubt know, it isn't in season this time of year and therefore very difficult to find."

"Oh, I do know that." Answered Millie.

"So instead…Sarasael, if you would? She's going to give something else to your friend to make him better."

Millie walked over to where Sarasael was sitting by Sempres in front of the fire. She already had some of the red powder in her hand.

"What's that?" asked Millie. She was very curious about matters of healing.

"It's just a little something I use for healing." Sarasael replied.

"Essence of some other plant?"

"A mixture of plants." Sarasael said. "It's just something I made, don't worry about it." She held the powder over Sempres's head and gently sprinkled it until it formed a fine red crown on the Otter's brown fur. Then she whispered a few soft words, for healing and drowning and the expelling of water. She stayed very concentrated on the task, watching each speck of powder and reaching out to it with her power as she said the words. She felt them catch and ignite as she continued the chant, felt the healing start to flow into Sempres's nervous system, when…

She felt sharp claws gripping her hand fiercely. It shattered her concentration and she opened her eyes, almost falling over, her connection with Sempres broken. Millie's paw was on her hand, sharp pinpricks of otter claws on her palm and a fierceness in Millie's eyes.

"What are you doing?" Sarasael demanded. "Let go of me, let me finish, I'm trying to help your friend here!"

"Well, I can't _let _you do that, hear me?"

Sempres' coughing intensified and he doubled over in front of the fire. Nirisath ran into the room, holding up Sempres and glaring at Millie and Sarasael. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Magic!" snapped Millie, all her fur standing on end. "You were using your filthy magic on my friend, I saw it sparkling and swirling all around him, and it turned his head red like blood!"

"I was healing!" Sarasael retorted. "If you hadn't bit me, you'd understand that!"

"Leave him alone!" Millie snarled. "I know what you did to that apartment, blowing it up with magic. I don't trust witches and I don't want any magic done on my friend! Blood magic, could kill him or something."

"Millie!" Nirisath took the Otter by the shoulder, pulling her to face her. "Sarasael doesn't do any of that bad magic. She uses her magic for healing. That was what she was doing, trying to heal Sempres there. She wasn't going to harm him at all. Do you think I would let her work for me if she was any sort of evil witch?"

Millie shrugged and didn't say anything.

"Answer me, Millie." Nirisath was using that tone of voice that Sarasael knew all to well. You answered Nirisath when she spoke like that.

"Guess not." Millie replied.

"Most certainly not. This was out of line." Nirisath was looking very seriously at the Otter now. "I want you to go and apologize to Sarasael for what you did, and let her heal Sempres now without a problem. Is that understood?"

"Understood." Millie grumbled. She walked over to Sarasael, not meeting her eyes and muttered, "Yeah, sorry." Under her breath. Sarasael didn't say anything in reply to that. She knew the Otter wasn't sorry, and plus, the Otter had called her a witch. Sarasael scowled and continued not to say anything.

"But I'm not going to let her touch Sempres." Millie continued, her voice raised. She reached out to Sempres who had fallen to the floor and was holding the blanket tight around himself. "I'm not going to let my friend be touched by filthy magic. I'm going to bring him home and heal him myself or let my mother heal him." Millie gathered Sempres in her arms and glared fiercely at Sarasael as she stalked past, cradling her friend. Nirisath reached out to stop her, but Millie continued, opening the door and walking out into the horrible weather with her friend and slamming the door harshly behind her.

Sarasael continued not to say anything. She closed the belt pouch and stood up, heading to the door without another word.

"Hold." Nirisath ordered, and Sarasael obeyed despite her fury.

"What?" snapped Sarasael. "I'm going home. Obviously my _filthy magic_ isn't wanted here."

"Sarasael." Nirisath said. "That was Millie's belief, and I tried to get her to listen to reason, but she obviously did not."

"No, instead she called me a witch and wouldn't let me heal a patient when I had to." Sarasael replied, whirling around furiously.

"I know!" Nirisath held her hands out in a placating manner. "I know that and so do you. I know your magic is a tool to aid you, just as I use plants and sometimes call on the properties of my river to help. Listen, I know this! Why do you care what they think?"

"Because I don't want them thinking I'm something I'm not. Next thing I know, they'll be calling me an evil enchantress and burning my house down like they did in the Ten Voyages of Tiendra." They burned an entire island of witches in that story, though granted it was because they were doing what Tahalset witches did best…leeching the magic of two nearby islands for their own personal gain. "They blamed me for the apartment but I didn't do that on purpose. I wasn't…didn't…wasn't going to kill him!"

"Yes, I am well aware of that." Nirisath's voice was calm. "Sarasael, you are a great asset to me with your knowledge of herbs and even your magic. That Millie was scared and wasn't listening to reason."

"Yeah, I was aware of that."

"Listen." Nirisath laid a hand on Sarasael's shoulder. "It's late, and you should go home. I will go find Millie and talk to her myself, alright? Until then, you will continue to report to me every day as if this hadn't happened. I'll talk to Sempres as well, and assure any who want to question your magical methods that they are perfectly safe. I know they are. I'll talk to the others."

"Promise?" Sarasael dared to say. She trusted Nirisath like she trusted Rilian, and felt that if Nirisath said it, it would be true.

"That I do." Nirisath answered. "Now go home and sleep, you look exhausted. And try not to take this too hard, alright? People are always afraid of new ideas. The first time a naiad like me wanted to be a healer years ago they weren't too intent on it either, preferring to trust Centaurs and other Animals instead. And look, here, they all come to me now. It'll work itself out, child." Nirisath finished.

Sarasael was still angry at Millie's outburst, but was calmed down slightly by Nirisath's promise. "I'll trust you, then."

"Good." Nirisath answered, then turned back to busy herself with whatever she had on her mind.

Sarasael went home and tried not to think too much, but it was difficult. Word of what she had done to the building had gotten around already, and they called her a bloody witch…but that wasn't their fault entirely, she thought. How were they supposed to know that on another world, the word "witch" was a terrible insult? Well, Nirisath said she'd talk to them and then they'd understand.

Of course they'd understand. Everyone listened to Nirisath when she spoke.

* * *

If the Otter really did listen to Nirisath, Sarasael didn't hear of it. She came in the next day, and the day after that, and Nirisath said nothing to her. By this point Sarasael knew well enough that Nirisath would speak when she chose to, and not a minute before. Sarasael went about her work, but she didn't see Millie or Sempres again after that day. Nirisath and Sarasael spoke very little after that incident, but that wasn't unusual either, for Nirisath didn't find idle chatter all that interesting.

The rain didn't stop. It continued off and on for an entire week, and Nirisath and the other naiads had to work very hard to keep the Great River under control. The constant storms had raised the banks of the River greatly, and flooding was a constant danger. Thankfully the naiads were able to keep the river under control for the most part.

The Penguins Inn was situated near the banks of the Great River, for in years past when Cair Paravel was only a castle and the city had yet to be built around it, Penguins Inn was a place where travelers would stop and stay at until they had an audience with the king and queen. In the past, people had suggested rebuilding it further downtown to avoid the risks of being so close to a river, but time and again that request had been denied. It was nice living close, and the visitors liked to see the naiads.

Sarasael came home late one night and went to sleep almost immediately. She was so tired and had to be up early again…in a matter of hours, in fact…and wanted to get as much sleep as she could. There was a crack of thunder and the rain started up again in earnest once she had fallen asleep, but she didn't notice.

Millie the Otter lived with her family even closer to the river than Penguins Inn was. They lived near a nice bachelor Beaver who helped them keep their home in shape. It was a quaint place and had a very old world feel to it, and the Otters were proud of it.

There was only so much the naiads could do. The River was beyond the control of the magical beings, and the rain had been going too long. And that night it started again, and there was nothing anyone could have done.

A loud roaring sound woke Sarasael from her sleep. She didn't wake up all the way…she only opened her eyes and muttered something unintelligible under her breath before turning over with every intention of going back to sleep. She only had a few hours left and then Ralfur would come and wake her up and she'd have to go to work again.

It wasn't the roar that made her fully awake so much as the screams. First was a roar, then terrible screams filled the air outside her window. That startled her so much that she fell out of bed, tangled up in the sheets, and battled against the tangle as she tried to stand up. She forced her eyes open and managed to stand up, falling against the window. Being that the window was right there, she looked right out of it…

Outside was a rush of water, fierce and violent, sweeping toward the building. The water was dirty and crested with white waves at it lashed against anything in its way. People were being swept along with the current, unable to fight against it.

Sarasael was so shocked that she stumbled away from the window, tripped over the sheets, and fell down on the floor again. Her sleep-numbed brain couldn't comprehend the disaster outside, so when she finally did get untangled, the first thing she did was run. She stumbled blindly down the stairs, shouting in panic to Bormin and Ralfur. She had to wake them up so they could see this!

She tripped over the bottom step and fell for the third time into the common room. There was already a layer of water on the floor…it was about an inch deep. But this was nothing compared to what she had seen, the whole place was going to be underwater, it was going to flood and be destroyed and never seen again! Where was Bormin?

There was an impact and the whole building shuddered as the water hit. The door was torn off its hinges, and Sarasael instinctively grabbed on to one of the tables that was close to her. She wrapped her arms around the table the best she could, her fingers digging into the wood. She just managed to get the image of Bormin running into the common room, shouting back at her and at the rest of the tenants to get out, but it was too late. The water rushed through and Sarasael clung with all her life to the table as the wall collapsed and the river tore through the building. Bormin yelled something at her, but she couldn't hear them over the sound of the river. She had a brief glimpse of a Panda who was sitting near the fire, and the Panda's eyes were wide and surprised as her own.

With a gasp, she was swept out the hole and into the flooded city.

Sarasael could barely hold on to the table. The water was all around her, soaking her dress and the blanket still clinging to her ankle. It was in her face, blinding her eyes and in her nose and she couldn't breathe. She kept hitting things as she went by, houses, carts, whatever, she couldn't tell. But she couldn't breathe and couldn't even muster enough strength to scream. The water was too strong…she rolled underwater and couldn't hold onto the table any longer. Water surged in her nostrils and lungs and pieces of grit from the river got in her eyes. Oh, if this is what Sempres felt, she thought, wondering why she was thinking this. It was awful to feel like this, drowning wasn't nice at all. She felt she was going to die as she futilely clawed at the water. Drowning wasn't a nice way to die. Her lungs burned for air and her vision was fuzzy and she didn't want to die. If there was any way to die, she'd rather be stabbed or something, drowning was too horrible and took too long.

She crashed into something else, but the pain felt far away. But it was solid…she reached out for it and clutched at it with her fingers. It was…she didn't know what, but she ran her fingers along it and struggled, and strangely enough she broke the surface of the water. She pulled herself on top of whatever it was, collapsing on her side as the water rushed past.

Sarasael leaned over and coughed, her whole body shuddering and her eyes so filled with water she couldn't see. She shook again and vomited profusely, expelling the water from her stomach, and then from her lungs. Her coughing shook whatever she was on, threatening to dislodge it from its position. Sarasael clung desperately to the wood underneath her fingers, coughing and shivering and frantically blinking the water from her eyes. She breathed heavily, taking the moist air into her starved lungs.

The river had crashed two carts into each other, and they were pushed up against the wall of someone's house. The carts together managed to break the surface of the water, and the only reason they were staying in position was because the water was rushing in that direction. But with the intensity of it, it wouldn't last for long. The water pressure would soon break the two carts into pieces.

Sarasael couldn't tell this, not with the river crashing through the streets. She could see pieces of rubble being taken with it, stones and wood and furniture from people's houses. She clung desperately to the ruined carts and prayed to Yarrin with every force left in her body to let her make it through this alive. But it didn't seem like Yarrin was listening.

* * *

The area that the flash flood struck was far from the main palace of Cair Paravel. The Penguins Inn and surrounding area was closer to the shore of the Great River near the entrance to the city. No one at the palace knew what had happened until a Hawk flew to the king and queen's bedchamber, tapping frantically against the glass until Caspian finally let the bird in.

"What is it?" he demanded. Caspian was a good king, but he didn't like being woken in the middle of the night anymore than the next person. "Do you realize what time it is?"

"Yes, I do." Replied the frantic Hawk. "Your majesty, there's been a flash flood in lower Cair, by the gate. The river's overflowed its banks and there's heavy damage. Buildings knocked down, my lord."

"What?" Caspian came fully awake at that. "A flash flood?"

"Yes."

"Are there deaths?"

"I don't know."

There was a pause. Caspian exhaled loudly. It wasn't surprising…the rain had been going on for days. But the naiads said they would reinforce that area because it was so close to the riverbanks. Had the naiads failed? No, they couldn't have, naiads were strong. "Aslan preserve us all." Caspian said softly. "Windchaser…" he turned to the Hawk. "Go find Rilian and tell him to meet us in the main hall right now. After that, rally the Owls and tell them to do reconnaissance over the area. Have Drinian go with them."

"Yes, my lord." Windchaser bowed his head, then leaped off the windowsill and flew into the main castle.

"Estelle? Estelle, wake up." Caspian lightly shook the sleeping queen's shoulder.

The queen murmured something and blearily opened her eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

"There's trouble."

"Oh." Estelle sat up, her brilliant hair sparkling in the dark room. "What kind of trouble?" she was awake almost instantly. She didn't have to sleep as much as normal people did, having spent her youth in the far off Ramandu's Island in the Eastern Sea where the sun shone almost all the time. There, every day the sun rose it was like it was rising for the first time, and it was brilliant and beautiful and rejuvenating. It wasn't so here in the mainland of Narnia, but the glory of the Eastern Ocean and the stars and ether from the sky ran in her veins. Estelle never needed more than three hours of sleep every night.

"There's a flash flood down in lower Cair." Caspian said, his voice tight with worry.

Estelle's eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh no, that can't be right." She whispered, and was out of bed in a flash. She ran to the window and looked out. "But the rain's slowing down." She said.

"I know, but they're close to the river."

Estelle looked at Caspian, who nodded grimly.

"What's the plan?" she asked. "Have you alerted the others?"

"I had Windchaser do it. Drinian is going to take the Owls on reconnaissance. I'm going to take Rilian down and investigate."

"Well, I'm coming with you, then." Estelle replied. She immediately went behind the dressing curtain and began changing into a more practical dress.

"Estelle…"

"What?"

"You can't go."

"Why not?"

"It's not logical. This is work for the men, my dear."

"Oh. Really." Estelle didn't believe a word of it.

"It's…we're going to take the boat and try to rescue those that we can. There will be debris and who knows if the flood will strike again. It's too dangerous. I don't want you to come with me…something could happen."

"Something already did." Replied Estelle.

"Something else." Caspian answered. "Something worse."

"Harder than sailing with you back from the Island? Harder than living in Narnia after living my whole life separated from it? I doubt that." Estelle brushed her hair out. "Either way, I'm coming with you."

"You can't. It's too dangerous." Caspian insisted. "I can't let you come."

"I'm coming."

"You can't."

Estelle came out from behind the changing screen, clearly ready to go anyway, despite what her husband said. "I am."

"Estelle…"

"What?"

The two of them looked levelly at each other, Estelle meeting Caspian's gaze and holding it. Finally, he sighed.

"Why don't we compromise?" Caspian said. "You can come with us, but stay on the outskirts where the flooding is less. That way you can help the survivors where it's safer. Is that good for you?"

Estelle smiled. "That's perfectly fine." She replied, satisfied. "Now get changed, and I'll meet you out in the hall."

Caspian nodded and let her go. It took Estelle a lot less time to get herself ready than it did for him.

Estelle went into the hall. The lights burned dimly but it was enough to see. The people and Beasts living in the palace always kept the lights on at all times, for some of them were nocturnal and moved about at all hours of the night. Estelle ran her fingers through her hair and now that she was outside of the room, allowed the worry to show on her face. She never liked to show any of that when Caspian was worried himself. He had so much on his mind all the time, between running the country and keeping diplomatic ties with both Archenland and Calormen, and it was always hard, especially with Calormen. And then now to have this sort of thing happening in their own country, it made that all the worse. Ties between Archenland and Narnia weren't the best right now. Oh, there wasn't any hostility…only estrangement. The two countries barely had any interaction in so many years other than the occasional Archenlander coming to Narnia for whatever reason. Mien and Toire were the only ones nearby, and Estelle was so grateful for them. They were wonderful people and greatly helping the diplomatic issue. But there was only so much two people could do, and the king of Archenland hadn't spoken to Caspian in years.

There was too much to worry about without adding trouble in their own country. First was the building's explosion, caused by that new girl. Sarasael was her name, wasn't it? She was some kind of magic user from another world who came in and blew up half a building, injuring several. Now she was trying to make up for it…Rilian insisted she was sorry, but Estelle didn't know what to believe. She used magic. That could never be a good thing. And Rilian was so defensive of her…and what was that? Her son barely knew this girl, and the way he talked one would imagine she was the sun, the moon, and the stars all in one. He was too young for that.

"Mother? What is it?" Rilian came running into the hallway, fully dressed. "Windchaser's yelling at me to wake up and come see you, what's going on? What time is it?"

Estelle put her arm around her son's shoulder. He was a good boy, she had no complaints. Just so young and so naïve. He'd never seen anything of the world, yet acted like he had. It made her smile sometimes, making her remember when she was like that, having lived with her father her whole life, guarding sacred objects from Narnia yet never really knowing the history behind it, never seeing the land they truly came from and understanding the significance.

But this was a grave time, not one for smiling.

"Rilian, you have to come with your father and I now. There's been a flash flood downtown near the gates and we need all the help we can get."

"A flash flood?" panic swept over his face. "Near the gates? How close to the gates?"

"I don't know the exact details, your father can tell you. Come on, we're going down to help."

"How close? Is it anywhere near Nirisath?"

"I don't know. Look, there's your father."

Caspian came into the hallway with Windchaser on his arm and a cup of coffee in the other. "Drinian already took the Owls out." He said, trying not to dislodge the Hawk while he drank his coffee. "There's three Horses willing to take us down to lower Cair to investigate the damage. I don't know what we'll need once we get there, but we'll figure that out later. For now, let's just get going."

It was a frantic ride down to lower Cair. The Horses were just as panicked as some of their own lived in that general area. Estelle stopped just outside where already some survivors were gathering, and she set upon helping them find their families and try to heal what she could without a healer.

Caspian and Rilian went further down into the site of the flood itself. By now the river had receded, leaving behind debris and destroyed homes, ruined food and water, and broken shops and goods. The damage was extensive and Caspian could see already it would take awhile to clean up and get everything back the way it was.

"Rilian." Caspian said, turning away from the Leopard he was speaking to.

"Yes, father?"

"This Leopard here has lost two of her cubs. I'm going to help her find them. I want you to go and assess the damage in this area the best you can and help anyone else that needs helping while I do this. Send word by any winged Creature when you're done, they should be able to find me. Understood?"

"Understood, father." Rilian said respectfully.

"Gather any of the homeless. We're going to help them all find new places to live until we can fix all of this." He also planned on building several shelters for the survivors, for even though the flood was only in this area, Cair was so densely populated that it left a sizeable amount of destruction.

"I'll do that, it won't be a problem."

"Good. I know I can count on you for this." Caspian said fondly, trusting in his son for something as important as this. With that, he went off to help the Leopard find her missing cubs.

* * *

The flood receded and with the water pressure gone, the two carts collapsed and became nothing more than a pile of wood on a muddy street. The water was only an inch deep now…such was the manner of flash floods, coming in and destroying and then leaving just as quickly. The carts collapsed under Sarasael's weight as well, and she was too tired to move anyway. She was left trapped under the carts but didn't care at all. She didn't fall asleep…no, her arm hurt too much for that. The one time she tried to move, a piece of wood jabbed into her arm and it hurt so terribly that she didn't want to move it anymore. She tried to push some of the wood off of her, but that made her arm hurt even worse.

So she remained where she was, soaking wet and half buried under a pile of wood, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. She could only stare at the wood and wonder dully why it wasn't moving itself. She was an enchantress and the wood ought to listen to her, no never mind that Tahalset enchantresses couldn't work without their powders. It just wasn't done.

Sarasael rested her head against the wood and ignored the splinters in her cheek. It was uncomfortable but that didn't matter much either. She barely noticed anything except for the light wind against her cheek and the smell of rain and mud. Was it raining anymore? She couldn't tell. It all blended together, the wood and the water and the sky.

It felt like days she had been there. Days, or a few hours, she couldn't tell which. It was probably hours but just felt like days. That's what it always said in the stories when people were in horrible situations.

"Sara?" she heard a voice call. Oh! Someone knew her name. Fancy that. "Lion's mane, Sara, is that you?" Well, who else would it be? She tried to speak up but only ended up coughing instead. Her throat was raw and it hurt to cough, so she tried to stop. It wouldn't stop, though. It just got worse. She felt like her whole body was going to be torn apart from the coughing, and gods, her arm, she couldn't move at all.

"Sara!" she heard the wood shift over her head and there was a crashing sound as it all came fully dislodged. She hit the cobblestones and whimpered from the pain in her arm, made all the worse by the cold, wet stone. She closed her eyes and curled up as tightly as she could around her arm to shelter it from any more movement.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. That didn't hurt.

"Sara, please wake up. It's just me. I've come to help you." She recognized that voice. It was very familiar, just as familiar as Nirisath…Nirisath the naiad, but this wasn't Nirisath. "Don't be dead. You're not dead, so don't act like it. Acting dead is only good for Possums."

What?

It was such a weird thing to say that Sarasael opened her eyes and wanted to look with confusion at the person and laugh about how weird that was. But all she saw was an extreme close-up of a cobblestone and someone's foot. She moved her good arm and tried to push herself up, and succeeded at getting about halfway before the strength in her arm gave out and she hit the cobblestones again with a low grunt of pain. She wouldn't try that again.

"Well at least you're not dead." She heard the voice say unsurely. "Oh, what am I saying." She felt an arm around her waist pull her up into a sitting position, and a hand brush the tangled wet hair out of her eyes. "Can you see better now?"

Oh, gods, her arm was moved, now it felt even worse. She bit her lip as tears sprang to her eyes. "My arm." She whispered. "Please don't touch it."

"I won't." the voice promised.

Sarasael opened her eyes. Now that her hair was out…ugh, she wanted to cut her hair now, shave it all off because it was nothing but a frizzy tangled mess and there was broken wood pieces in it now probably. Whoever said long hair was beautiful apparently had never been caught in a flash flood before.

She felt the person's hand take her face and brush some of the dirt off of it. She turned to look at him.

Rilian. He had found her. It was going to be okay now. She smiled.

"Oh thank Aslan, you recognize me." He said. She blinked a few more times, trying her best to focus her mind in the present. Everything was too vague otherwise.

"Don't touch my arm." She said. Right. Figures, Sarasael thought dryly to herself. First thing you say when the person you love finds you is 'don't touch my arm'.

"Okay." Rilian replied. "Is it broken?"

Sarasael looked down at her arm now that was lying in her lap. It was twisted at a funny angle and there was a horrible purple bruise on it. She touched it lightly and winced as another stab of pain shot up her arm. It was so horrible it made her feel sick. "I think so." She said. "I definitely think it is."

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know." She answered.

"Here, let me help you."

"No, just leave me here." She didn't want to move at all. Sitting here was perfectly fine.

"Can't leave you here." Rilian replied. "You're soaked through and your arm's broken and you're going to catch hypothermia."

"You mean pneumonia." She knew all about pneumonia. Nirisath made her learn the symptoms of both kinds of pneumonia. There was one that spread in closed places and was really contagious and another that could be caught just anywhere.

"That's not important. You're going to get sick. Come on." She felt him take her good hand and arm and help to pull her upright. She stood up, but her legs were so weak and she felt herself collapsing to the ground again. She almost landed, but Rilian caught her, jarring her arm again. She couldn't restrain a cry of pain. "Oh I'm so sorry!" Rilian apologized frantically. "Listen, you're injured and I don't know what happened to you. I have to get you to some place warm where you can recover. I'm just so glad you're alive. You have no idea how scared I was." He put his arms around her, holding her up but careful to avoid her injury. "I got here and the first thing I did was get to Penguins Inn to see what happened…everyone there was alive, thankfully most of the tenants were elsewhere in the city and hadn't gotten home yet and Bormin was able to keep safe the ones that did. There was a Panda, but they found him and he's fine. But I saw you weren't there and the whole building was destroyed. I talked to Bormin and he said you ran downstairs and was shouting something but was swept away when the flood hit. I looked all around…there was so much damage. I couldn't find you anywhere."

"Oh." She managed to say.

"I'm so happy I found you. I don't know what I would have done if you had died." He sounded so frantic.

"Well, I'm not dead," she was too confused still to say anything else. "That's good because I don't want to…don't want you not to be happy." She really didn't know what she was saying.

"It's okay. There's no problem at all." Rilian didn't care that she was so out of it, he was too happy that she was alive. "You can't walk at all, can you?"

"I can, a little, I think,"

"That's okay. It's not that far to Nirisath's house, do you think you can get there?"

"I'll try," But the moment she moved, her arm started to move as well, and she felt like she was going to throw up again. "But my arm's moving," was all she managed to say.

"Yeah…yeah it is. Hold on, I can…" He took off his waistcoat. "Let me have your arm, I promise I'll be careful. I'm just going to put it in…what do you call it? A sling. So it's easier to travel."

"Okay." She replied. She knew about slings. She tried not to cry out as he tied the waistcoat around her arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, keeping her arm suspended and close to her body.

They moved very slowly and it took a lot longer than she expected. But they both reached Nirisath's house, and Sarasael was about to faint if they had to walk any further. She let Rilian knock on the door because by that point she was staring very hard at the door and thinking about how wooden it was and she knew that her brain wasn't functioning and that was due to exhaustion and hypothermia or maybe both and either way it wasn't good.

"Nirisath! Please be home!" Rilian called desperately.

Finally the door opened. Nirisath was looking…diminished, that was the word. She seemed just as tired as he was. She looked at the almost unconscious Sarasael and then at Rilian, and indicated for them to go inside.

"Alright." Nirisath's voice sounded smaller too. "Inari?" she peered into Sarasael's eyes and Sarasael gave her a vague smile.

"Hi Nirisath," Sarasael replied, and giggled. She giggled even louder, and pressed her hand to her mouth to stop the giggling. "Ow."

"Oh dear." Nirisath shook her head. "This isn't good. I don't have time for this! Here, let me have her." Without a word of assent from Rilian, she led Sarasael away from him and put her down on one of the many couches in Nirisath's home. "You sit now too. There's tea by the fire. It's willowbark for fever, but that doesn't matter. Take some anyway. And tell me what happened. And be quick, there's other injured I still have to attend to." Her voice was still sharp and commanding. Sarasael let out another weak giggle and her head flopped onto the pillow.

"Haha," she said. "Hahaha, you look funny, Nirisath, your hair's all messed up. Except naiads, they don't have hair right? Ha ha but they're not bald."

"No, we're not." Nirisath answered as she walked over to her stores and immediately plucked a pungent smelling cloth out of a closed jar. "Naiads somehow manage to not have hair while not being bald. Odd trick, isn't it?" she was speaking normally to Sarasael as she walked back over with the cloth.

"Haha yeah that's pretty odd." Replied Sarasael with another giggle.

"It is. Here, smell this and tell me what it is." She held the cloth under Sarasael's nose.

"Oh, I think…" but Sarasael was out before she could correctly identify the chloroform.

"I don't normally approve the use of chloroform." Nirisath said, half to herself and half to Rilian as she put the cloth away again. "It's used too often in kidnapping and such. But there's not much else to do at this point. Do you know anything about healing? No, of course you don't, forgive me for asking."

"Still, can I help?" he came over to her and hovered over the sleeping Sarasael, holding the cup of tea in his hand.

Nirisath sighed. "And you're not even married to her and already being the annoying concerned partner. Sweet, but no, you can't help, as you have no idea what you're doing. Geese are the same, no, they're even worse than you. Had a sick Gander in here once and her mate nearly pecked me to death trying to help. You can help by sitting over there and letting me know how my other patients are doing if there is any change, alright? Go do that now."

"I'm not married…"

"Go do that now, I said!"

"Going." Even princes obeyed Nirisath when she said to do something. "None of them are awake. You drugged them all?"

"Not drugging." Nirisath answered, lifting Sarasael's arm up to look at it. "Half of them are asleep naturally. The other half…well, I suppose you can call it drugging, but that's not the correct term. Drugging implies a negative purpose. This…I merely gave them something to keep them asleep until they recover. A lot of broken limbs and concussions, had to give them something special for that." Nirisath took Sarasael's arm and ran a finger along the bone. "Nasty break. How did this happen?"

"I don't know."

"Hm." Luckily, Nirisath was experienced with all kinds of breaks and injuries. It took her longer than usual but she managed to set the bone and put it into a cast. "Let me finish, then you tell me what happened." It took her awhile to get all the work done that was necessary, perhaps even longer than usual because she was so worn out from trying to stop the river..

This should do for now." Nirisath said when she finished. "Now, let me look at you…you're fine, just tired. Just worried."

"You don't look so well yourself." Rilian added as he sat down next to the naiad.

"Exhausted." She replied, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand. "There's been so much to do. After the flood, we had to hurry to get the river under control. Then there's been so many injuries I had to take care of on top of that…too much work! Strains even the best, my lord. Even the best."

"No, it's understandable. How many injured? My mother said she was going to help some as well. She knows a little about healing."

Nirisath snorted. "Your mother's the daughter of a star, she knows more than 'a little' about healing. Though the healing she knows is different than mine. She heals injuries of the mind as opposed to the body, bless her, I wish there were more like her in the world today."

"She says the same thing about naiads."

Nirisath chuckled. "Nice of her to say. So. You were going to tell me what happened."

"Right."

"Well? Be my guest."

Rilian glanced down at Sarasael. "How long is she going to be asleep?" he asked.

"Awhile yet. Through the night and into the morning, probably to the afternoon."

"Oh."

"But as I can see you're worrying about her, I can tell you that she'll be fine. It'll take her arm the best part of two months to heal, the ribs not as long because they've just been bruised, but otherwise she'll be fine. So don't worry. Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know all of it." Rilian answered. But he told her what he did know, with the remains of the flood and finding Sarasael under a couple of wrecked carts.

"Splinters!" Nirisath threw her hands up in frustration. "I have to worry about that now, too. Infections. Well, that will wait until she is awake. There's too much to do! You tell your mother that if she wants to be a help to me at all, she'll get me extra hands to do some of this work."

"Well, Sara is good at what she does, right?"

"Yes, she is good. Also unconscious at the moment, which proves to be no help whatsoever. And we have to work around the broken ribs and arm now, ah, that's not going to be easy. Well, such is life. Are you planning on staying here until she wakes up?" Nirisath raised an eyebrow at Rilian, who had moved a seat next to Sarasael and was sitting there now with his empty tea mug.

"I do."

"Then you're going to be waiting a long time, so I'd suggest going home and coming back later." Then Nirisath's face softened when she saw the adamant concern on the young prince's face. He was obviously quite taken with the foreign enchantress. Ah, young love. Nirisath thought it was cute, albeit making people act a bit foolish. But that was a part of life, too, and if Rilian really loved the Inari girl…ah, it was fine. Would be about time for Narnia to see their prince married to an enchantress who wasn't evil. It was only that one Witch from all those years ago that gave female magic users a bad name. "She's going to be fine." Nirisath said softly, laying a hand on Rilian's shoulder. "You can stay for a little while, but not all night because I still have work to do. That alright with you?"

Rilian smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Nirisath."

"It's hardly a problem." She replied, and went back to work.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few hours were comparatively dull after everything that happened before. Rilian stayed with Sarasael, who kept sleeping, while Nirisath worked first with the people in her house and then outside again with the other naiads. Rilian kept nodding off, and he soon lost track of time. Five hours later, there was a loud knock at the door. Rilian was half asleep at this point and ignored it.

"Don't all go to answer the door at once." Nirisath said grumpily. Now she was exceptionally tired and always got nippy when she was tired. She pulled back the door…

And immediately bowed low at the waist, dispelling her crabby attitude instantly.

"Your majesty." She said, for standing in the door was King Caspian, dressed in…well, dressed in finery that was usually regal but right now dusty and wet from all the work he had been doing with Estelle. "To what do I owe this honor? Do come in."

Caspian followed Nirisath in, looking around at all the patients. "You've been caring well for the injured." He said. "Commendable."

"Thank you. I always see to it that I do the best I can for them." Nirisath answered. "What is it you're here for? Did you bring help?" she added hopefully.

"No, sorry. I'm looking for my son."

"Oh? I thought you knew he was here."

Caspian shook his head. "No. I told him when he was done to come meet and queen and I where we were gathering the homeless. It's been five hours and he never showed up, and the queen is out of her mind with worry." His voice carried that tone that implied the person mentioned would be in very much trouble.

"Oh dear." Nirisath said. "Yes. Well, he's right in that room. I've got work to do, so I'll leave you to…that." She recognized that tone and left very quickly.

Rilian, in the other room, had his chin resting on his hand and wasn't bothering to keep his eyes open. Just a short nap, that's all. It looked like she was going to be sleeping a lot longer anyway, so it wouldn't hurt if he slept too…

"Rilian."

"Hm? What?" he heard his father's voice, probably coming to wake him up for some inane palace chore.

"Wake up now." Except he sounded kind of angry.

Rilian opened his eyes and picked his head up from his hands. "What is it?" he turned to look at his father…who was standing in front of him, arms crossed, and looking just as angry as he sounded.

Oops.

Rilian unfortunately remembered that once he had done reconnaissance, he was supposed to meet his mother and father. Five hours ago. Except he had come here and was so worried about Sarasael that he had completely forgot. He looked at his father, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise.

"Yes. Now you remember." Caspian said. "Five hours ago, Rilian. Five hours. It wasn't a hard request, was it? Simply meeting us when you were done so you could tell us the damage. That should have taken an hour, I'd be willing to give you two, three at most. But five? And you never sent word with anyone, and your mother! Did you even consider how she would feel about that? With all the damage, she was so sure you'd been crushed to death by falling masonry or had some other equally tragic calamity befall you, and went on to say how terrible parents we were to let you wander on your own…you know, you've heard this before. Point being, she was beyond worried, and so was I. If something had happened, then what? We'd never be able to find you. You could have died and we'd never have known it until it was too late! You call this responsibility? You're going to be the next king of Narnia, and you forget something as simple as this! Is this how you'll be as king? Forgetting the appointments of your subjects, forgetting to sign a treaty that could stop a war?" his voice rose, and Rilian shrank in his chair. "Now what is so important that it caused you to forget this and stay here for hours? Surely Nirisath couldn't want you. And if you thought you were being helpful, you could have let us know you were coming to help."

"I'm sorry." Was all Rilian could say, lowering his eyes.

"Yes, of course now you are sorry."

"I'll leave now." He said, standing up, knowing he was in the face of a superior force You didn't disobey your parents.

"Yes, you'd better come with me." Then he noticed the unconscious Sarasael, and his eyebrows came together, but he didn't say anything. Caspian led Rilian to the door, and noted how he kept turning back to glimpse at the girl. This did not bode well.

* * *

It was going to be a lot more difficult than anyone thought to rebuild. While the flash flood struck only a small section of Cair, it did horrible damage in that section. There were so many homeless that every single inn and apartment in nearby was crammed with people desperately needing a place to say. Caspian paid out of the royal treasury to those innkeepers and apartment managers. But there was also the ruined property…people who not only lost their houses but their clothes and everything they owned, and in some cases, their loved ones. There were five deaths total…a small number, but the fact remained that it was a number.

One among that number was the Otter Sempres, who was sleeping in his home with his friend Millie when the flood hit. Millie could swim and managed to get out alive, though she had broken her wrist and damaged her tail in the process. Sempres wasn't so lucky. He was still tired from almost drowning and was sleeping, and when the water filled his room, he didn't have the strength to swim out the flood. Their home was destroyed and Millie was in one of the inns, grieving for days on the death of her friend.

Everyone worked to rebuild, and Rilian had the good sense not to bring up the question of Sarasael again to his parents. The Penguins Inn was destroyed completely, and as far as Rilian knew, she was still staying with Nirisath. He was forced to work with his parents for four days straight before he managed to sneak out, unnoticed. He didn't like all this sneaking around, but it was the only thing that could be done right now.

Sarasael was still at Nirisath's. She was sitting in front of the fire, stirring a pot of soup with her good arm, when Rilian opened the door and came in.

"Sara!" he called, and she whirled around, dropping the spoon on the floor. The soup spattered into the fire and hissed, and she was glad that Nirisath was currently out and not here to yell at her. She smiled broadly and stood up awkwardly, her broken arm in a cast and a sling around her neck.

"Rilian." She said as he enfolded her in his arms. "I'm so glad you came."

"I tried to come sooner." He said. "But you know how hard it is with parents and whatnot. You're looking better."

"Oh, I am. I'd be all healed by now, but Nirisath won't let me go back to Penguins Inn to get my powders." She said, making a face.

"Yeah really?"

"Yeah. So how are you doing? Trying to make everything right after the flood? Nirisath says that everyone's so busy. She won't let me help with the patients either. This is getting ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous, she's being smart." Rilian said as they both sat down on the couch. "When I found you, you were practically unconscious and giggling over the fact that naiads don't have any real hair, only water that resembles hair." He informed her.

Sarasael covered her face with her good hand. "Did I really say that?"

"Yes."

"Oh, gods."

"Well, part of me is glad you weren't entirely conscious."

"And why is that?"

"So you didn't hear me rambling about possums." He said, and she laughed.

"Possums, huh?"

"Yeah. Possums. It was ridiculous. And then my parents were being absolutely ridiculous, I brought you here and then they started yelling at me because I didn't go back with them immediately. I mean really yelling…my father was this close to locking me up in my room for days, even though I'm far too old for that. I know…it's ridiculous, and you're going to say something about how I should do my own thing, so you'll be proud to know that I snuck out today to come visit you."

She grinned. "And I have to say, I'm proud of you for doing that. Not that I'm encouraging sneaking and bad behavior and all that. So how's the rest of the city doing? Nirisath's just as bad as your parents when it comes to keeping a person all locked up and stuff."

"The damage is extensive."

"How bad?"

"Really bad." Rilian sighed. "There's hundreds of homeless and a few dead…only five, but we haven't had deaths like this in Cair…well, ever, as far as I know. We're usually protected against flooding, I don't know what went wrong. We've been working to fix it up…a few Elephants are helping, we had the dwarves, and all those to rebuild…the rebuilding hasn't started yet, right now we just got everyone temporary homes." He went on to describe how all that went, getting the homeless together, caring for the injured, just generally repairing issues. "And…well, I'm assuming you're staying with Nirisath, right?"

"Until she lets me go, then I'm going back to the Inn…if they'll let me."

There was a long pause and Rilian looked away, unable to meet her eyes. Sarasael knew by now that that was a sign that he didn't want to tell her something.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well…it's about the Penguins Inn." He said hesitantly.

"What about it?"

Another pause. "I told you that most of the buildings were destroyed. It was a really nasty flood, caused more damage than most floods, so many houses destroyed. The Inn was too. There's almost nothing left. The people managed to get out safely though." He added quickly. "All the tenants are alive. Bormin, you know, he's a tough Tapir and was essential in…the…rescuing."

Sarasael didn't respond instantly. "Bormin is very brave, I'm glad he helped everyone to safety. Wouldn't want anyone to die." The fact that it was destroyed took a moment to sink in. "Wait so it's destroyed? The whole building, and everything in it?" her voice was hesitant. That meant her clothes were destroyed, her work station was destroyed, but she could get a new work station. Once again she lost a place she lived, though this time it wasn't her fault. She couldn't control the water. But…clothes she could get new, and she could always make a new work station. There were lots of other places in Cair she could live.

Her mind then went to her book that contained all the information she needed to know about making powders and performing enchantress magic. It was sitting in the other room where she left it the night of the flood. She forgot to take it home and it was still at Nirisath's…so it was safe, which was good because she couldn't get another book. Then there were her powders, that meant…they were…

"Everything was destroyed? Everything that was in the Inn?"

"I'm afraid so." Rilian answered.

"Everything." Of course it meant everything. Her book was here, but she always brought her powders home with her. They were last on her dresser next to the bed…and were now drowned by the water, washed all the way across the city and obliterated along with so many other things. Well, she could always make more, there was information in the book on how to do all of that. So it wouldn't be…

With a horrible sinking realization, she remembered that there were a few powders that she couldn't remake here in Narnia…white, for absolute emergencies, and…communication. The dark green powder that was her only link to Tahalset, to her parents and her friends, the only people who could possibly bring her home…was now drowned and gone, the last of it ruined by the flood and rubbish of the building. It was all gone now. All of it, and with two key ingredients not existing in Narnian plantlife…there was no way…of ever remaking it.

She didn't know what to say now. She only felt faint and distant and disbelieving. "Are you absolutely sure?" she asked. "I mean, there couldn't have been anything left? Nothing could have survived? Maybe someone rescued some of the belongings as well." She asked hopefully, looking at Rilian with a look that said it was basically the only thing she was hoping at the moment.

"I don't know. I don't think so. They were more concerned of getting everyone out alive. People can always get new belongings but lives are a totally different story." He said. She bit her lip hard and looked away. "Why?" when she didn't say anything, he reached out and pressed a hand to her cheek, turning her unresisting face to his. "Why? What is it?"

"Because I can't make it all again." She whispered. "Not all of it. I told you I can't make it all again here."

"Yes, you did, I remember." He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this, too.

"That was the last of it. You know what I used to talk to everyone back on my world? It's…that's gone too. All of it, and I can't make it again." She finished, and the implications of that were almost too big for her mind to handle. Suddenly she was filled with a million things she wanted to tell Hylaea, jokes to tell her brother, advice she wanted from her mother, things to ask that she _had _to ask now. There was the magistrate who she needed to see again, the headmistress to assure that she was still alive, and Hylaea was working on the project and in a few days they were due to talk again and Sarasael had too many things to say. Of course that happens now, when…when there is no way to ever say those things. No way to tell her mother how much she loved her, Hylaea how much their friendship meant even with all these miles (and worlds) apart. There was no way of ever saying that, of assuring everyone that she was still alive and still seeking to go home. Popularity and studying, going to university and learning magic to become a great enchantress…not only enchantress, but renowned throughout the world for being the first to travel to another world. In that instant, all of that…all those lovely ideals she had thought up these few months…gone, and never to be recovered. She'd never see them again, they'd never see her. There was no way to reestablish the link without her communication powder.

She was never going home now.

She was never seeing anyone from her home ever again. This place…this Narnia, oh, it was beautiful but she'd never want to stay here forever. She never gave that any thought! Sure, she'd be here a long time, maybe…but there was still the chance of returning, still the time of talking to her people again between the life she had here. That was gone…and she never felt more alone than now, sitting here in Nirisath's house with the realization that this Narnia is the place that she would be forever. She had no home, both apartments destroyed, and now her last vestige of connection with her world destroyed too.

Was this her home now, then? This strange world, this place called Cair Paravel full of talking Animals and royalty? She figured she would come back and visit once she found a way to go home. She'd walk between the worlds and it would be fine, because she would always have a home to go to. This place was lovely but it didn't feel anything like a home.

Rilian knew this, too, but he didn't dare voice it out loud.

"So this is my home, then," Sarasael said finally, shrugging, trying to act like it didn't bother her.

Rilian didn't say anything. It was one thing to live in Narnia all your life…of course you love it. But he couldn't imagine being taken and placed somewhere else and told he could never go back, never even talk to his parents again.

He put his arm around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone," Sarasael whispered, her voice cracking. "Not Hylaea, or my mum, or anything. Hylaea's going to wonder forever why I didn't contact her and I'll never be able to explain it. And my mum's going to think that I don't want to talk to them anymore. And there's no way anyone there will know about the flood because they're not that far into the project yet. They'll just be left forever wondering why." She said. "And I can never explain myself, unless they find a way to bring me home like, really soon or right now…I can't…this is an emergency and I can't get out of it!" she cried, burying her face in his shoulder. "What are they going to think? And with all that time passing, who knows how long they'll take, if…they'll even remember…I can't do this. I just can't. This is not happening, I mean, I love Narnia but it's not my home. But I don't have a choice now, I guess it is." She finished with a long sigh. She was too stunned to even cry. She didn't even fully believe it, there was still that part of her that cried out that this could not be, would not be.

"Anything I say'll sound stupid." Rilian admitted, putting an arm around her waist to hold her closer. "I can't possibly imagine never seeing my family again, so there's really no point in me saying I know how you feel. 'Cause I don't."

"Yeah, I know." She replied, closing her eyes. "Nice of you to be honest though."

"Guess so." He answered. "But it's not making things any better, is it?"

She didn't say anything. There was nothing anyone could say that would help, being so far from home and knowing that she would stay there forever.

"But I'll take care of you," he said suddenly, his voice filled with determination and promise. "You have my word on that. If…well, you…if you're staying in Narnia here forever, you don't have anything to worry about. Not while I'm around. I won't let anything happen to you, and you can stay with me, and won't have to worry about anything. I'll always take care of you."

"Thank you," she whispered, and though she didn't know what else to say, she meant it just as much as he did.

The door opened. "Inari? Found some fireweed, putting it on the table, and you are going to put it away and do inventory, so go do that." Nirisath came into the room with some fireweed noolu moss in her hand that she threw onto a chair, and then stopped, raising an eyebrow.

Sarasael and Rilian split almost immediately, and it was obvious to Nirisath that they had a lot of practice with doing that. Sarasael coughed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, muttering to Nirisath, "I'll get right on that fireweed, Nirisath." And then she walked quickly into that other room. Rilian avoided Nirisath's gaze and got up, too, saying something about going home now and not meaning for the intrusion.

"Hold it." Nirisath held up a hand. "Not home yet. You tell me what's going on, hm? Now I know you love that apprentice of mine, oh, it's been obvious for quite awhile, half of Narnia knows by now I'm sure. What's she all worked up about?"

"It's not that easy to say." Rilian shrugged and indicated he wanted to leave, but kings and queens bowed to the almighty hand of Nirisath when she held it up and he couldn't leave yet. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Favors, favors, royalty always want favors! But go ahead."

"The Penguins Inn was destroyed."

"Ah, that's where she was staying, wasn't it? Nice convenient place."

"Yes. Well." He cleared his throat. "It was destroyed entirely, and everything she had in it. You know how she'd always talk to the people of her world even though she couldn't get home? She can't do that anymore."

Nirisath picked up the noolu moss, wringing it into the fire and then sitting down, chin in her hand. "Oh dear." Nirisath said. "Yes, yes, you don't have to say anymore. No wonder she's so distraught, cut off from her family at such a young age…and…any way of going home?"

"No." Rilian shook his head. "She hasn't found a way, and no one in her world has either."

"So no contact at all. Rough." Nirisath wasn't the most sympathetic person unless it was to one of her patients, so this reaction wasn't unusual for her. "That is awful. Tell her I'm sorry."

"Tell her yourself," Rilian retorted.

"Fine, I'll do that. What's the favor you want?"

"Penguins Inn was destroyed. I'd normally ask one of the other inns or apartments if she could stay there, but…"

"But?"

"There's rumours." He said finally. "Nasty rumours I've heard on my way here. There's no way I'm telling Sarasael any of them…she doesn't need that now. But half the city's spreading the word that she's a witch, and they mean it in the worst possible way. They believe she blew up that first building on purpose, and have you heard the Otter, Millie? Millie's house was destroyed, just like practically every other building in lower Cair. But Millie's been telling as many people as will listen that she tried to stop Sara from doing magic and Sara attacked her and yelled at her for calling her a witch, and that it was Sara's fault for the flood. She was doing it to destroy Millie's house."

"Now what kind of superstitious nonsense is that?" Nirisath said, shredding the moss on a table. "No one can control floods. I'm a naiad and I couldn't make a flood happen if I was mad at someone. And if that girl had magic like that, she'd be home by now." Nirisath finished. "I'm taking you're telling everyone it's all a bunch of rubbish?"

"Of course!" Rilian said, shocked that she'd think anything less of him. "I made sure to tell anyone who I heard talking about it otherwise. But you know them, they'll believe anything."

"That much is obvious. So you can't ask any neighboring inns for fear that they'll reject her because of all these rubbish rumours."

"Yes."

"So…"

"So I was wondering if it was at all possible for her to stay with you."

Nirisath thought for a minute, but wasn't surprised at that request. "I suppose that would work fine." Nirisath said. "I've got room in this house here, and…ah, then she'd be here all the time and I wouldn't have to worry about her being late anymore. Ah, that works better." Nirisath nodded. "Then fine, she can stay."

"Thanks." Rilian said, extremely relieved. "I'll go tell her." He got up and left Nirisath to her current project, trying to pulverize the noolu moss into a fine powder. He went into the other room, where Sarasael was lying out the fireweed with extremely careful and focused precision.

"There are exactly thirty-two pieces of fireweed in this jar," Sarasael said.

"Thirty-two?"

"Yes. See?" she pointed to the fireweed.

"Ah. Yes, I do see. Anyway…oh goodness, stop counting the fireweed!" he said, catching her hand in mid-count. She looked at him with surprise. "Listen, I know this is all difficult, but…hey, I talked to Nirisath, and she said that you can stay here, live here. She has extra space and is letting you live here now. Though I don't know how much of that is sympathy, or how much of that is so you can now be her official healer assistant slave or something, knowing Nirisath it could be either one." He finished, and she gave him a small smile. "But point being she's letting you stay. See? You have a home now." Nirisath's place was practically home as it is, she'd been spending so much time with her lately.

"You did that?"

"I convinced her, yeah. Come on, least I can do, huh?"

"Thank you." She stood up and gave him a genuine embrace. "Thank you so much. Really, you've done far too much for me, so anything I say isn't going to sound all that good in thanks...but…yeah."

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. I love you, Sara, this is what I do for people I love."

"And you know I'll always be grateful for it. Anything I can do in return, you just name it."

"I'll let you know the moment I think of something." He said with a grin. "Now I have to get back, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes,"

"Definitely," He said, kissing her quickly before leaving.

Sarasael went into the first room where Nirisath was just finishing up with the noolu moss. "Nirisath?"

"Hmm? Room's that way, it's all yours. There's bed linens in the closet, make it yourself, I'm busy." Nirisath pointed, not looking up from what she was doing. Oh well, that was Nirisath for you. Sarasael didn't bother saying anything else, and just followed down the dimly lit hallway into the room.

She entered, and it was completely dark, so she had to go back and light a few candles to take into the room. There was a small window with old, dusty maroon curtains drawn across it. There was a wooden bed in the corner that was only a mattress, a small desk, and four plain walls. There was a thick layer of dust on the desk. She wrinkled her nose as she drew her finger across it. Clearly Nirisath hadn't used the room for years, not even for patients. It would take some working on, but Sarasael had a lot of time on her hands. And at least it was a place, a real place, and she felt a lot safer here than anywhere else except with Rilian. Despite Nirisath's gruff manner, she liked the naiad anyway. Nirisath knew what she was doing, wasn't afraid of magic, and would never dream of calling Sarasael a nasty witch.

She opened the maroon curtains and the feeble evening light shone on the floor of the old, dusty room. Was this home? Was this where she should learn to be happy, to live, to think about and stay from now until she died however many years later? Was this dusty room in a naiad's house going to be the place she'd exist in every day while she learned to be a healer, and eventually…oh, eventually become a healer permanently in Narnia? Outside the window was the rest of the city, which was lovely but nothing like Tahalset cities. Outside were the cobblestoned roads and the Animals who lived, carriages and people selling things and strange plants that she still didn't know the properties of, and the castle in the distance looming over everything, now outlined in the setting sun. And near here was the River, and a forest, a thick pine forest that stayed green all year round.

No, Cair Paravel was nice. But home, home was far away.

Sarasael set the candles up around the room, and then figured it was time to go to work in cleaning this room up.

* * *

The rain slowed down as the week progressed. It lessened from constant thunderstorms to an occasional depressing drizzle, coating the whole city in a mist that refused to lift. It was not enough to be dangerous, but just enough to be annoying. And everyone was thoroughly tired about getting wet.

Millie was gaining a surprising amount of popularity. After her house was destroyed and she took refuge in a nearby inn, she gained an unfortunate vendetta against Sarasael. Millie stayed up often, looking outside at the destruction (she decided to stay where she could see it, just to remind her of her purpose) and thinking over everything that took place. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the work of that nasty, magic using newcomer. She'd seen her in action once before…that time she tried to use said nasty magic on Sempres. It hadn't worked; Sempres hadn't gotten any better even though that girl claimed the magic would work. Millie thought of herself as a good, logical Narnian, and she knew bad magic when she saw it. That was bad magic. Millie told her so…she confronted the girl, refused to let her friend be taken advantage of by all that horrid magic. The girl had reacted too…no doubt by destroying Millie's house the way she did. A sorceress of that caliber, someone who used magic that easily was undoubtedly capable of calling down the water and using it to destroy her enemies. That's the way it always worked with witches. The White Witch had power over winter; she was able to use the ice, snow, and the bitter cold wind of the north to achieve her own terrible ends. Was there any reason why this girl couldn't do the same thing? She used the water to destroy those who opposed her, like Millie. It was her fault Millie was homeless and Sempres was dead.

Millie thought she was the only one who believed that. Then she talked to a few of the victims of that building that was blown up not too long ago…and they agreed with her. She was some fierce and terrible new witch who now had the prince wrapped around her finger. They all saw him, going through the city every day to spend time with her. They saw him with her, him leaving wherever she was…and Millie didn't like that. She discovered she wasn't the only one on that, either. She and a few others knew…they absolutely _knew _that something wasn't right. The flood, the building, the fascination the prince had with her…no, it wasn't good. It couldn't possibly be good.

People actually listened to Millie when she spoke. She'd stand on a box or a podium and say her bit, speaking out against enchantment and foreigners from other worlds, warning them against letting magic into their homes. She struck a chord with some of those descended from people who lived during the Hundred Years Winter, whose stories from their ancestors were being told even still in their households. And Millie soon lost her shyness, so devoted she was to the task, and became a good orator. When she spoke, people actually listened.

Millie had to admit, this newfound power was exciting. No one ever listened to her before, she was just plain old Millie the Otter who lived near the Great River. She'd go about her day, do her chores, live her life, and nothing would ever change. But now everything had. Now she had a cause she fought for, something she believed in that other people did, too. She could speak and wasn't afraid of crowds, and her name was muttered throughout all of Cair. She spoke out against witches and they listened. It was strange, to have people nod to her in the street, or take up some of her cries against magic. She was really someone now, even if the things she was saying weren't necessarily true. She believed them, and so did others, and that's what really mattered.

In a sense, Millie owed this newfound popularity to that odd foreign girl, but she never thought of it that way at all. She was fighting for something, for the betterment of Narnia and the prevention of a repeat of the Hundred Years Winter.

"And that's what I'm here for," Millie said in upper Cair one day, standing in front of a food shop and talking to a small and enthusiastic gathering of people. "I'm here to protest against this perversion of our natural laws. Look at this, at what you are seeing here! We honest, hardworking Narnians, who go through our lives in order to make the world a better place. An honest place! And since when, my friends, have witches been honest people? Oh, it starts out nice enough…back in the days of the White Witch, she didn't call down the winter immediately, did she? She didn't start turning people to stone immediately? Of course not. She waited until our guard was down, then went about her evil deeds. What makes you think this is going to be any different? A foreign girl arrives from another world, calls herself an enchantress…uses magic, obvious and out in the open. She destroys a building. And when I dared oppose her, in order to save my beloved friend…she calls down water, a horrible flood of water, to destroy my home and kill us all!" Millie shouted, raising both her arms in the air. She was exhilarated at the response of the crowd, crying out their own cheers and agreements to her words. She smiled at that…oh yes, this was wonderful. This was what she was meant for, forget that ordinary life she had led before now. She'd avenge Sempres's death a thousand times over. She'd change the course of history forever by saving it from what would be an otherwise terrible fate. "And she has our prince, our dearly beloved prince, waiting on her hand and foot and treating her as if she is the greatest queen of all worlds. Do you not see something suspicious in this, my fellows?"

"Maybe," a voice said, ringing out through the crowd and turning every head to look at the speaker. He had a clear voice that could halt worlds with only two words. Even Millie fell silent at his approach…he was the king.

"Your majesty," Millie bowed as the crowd parted to let King Caspian through. "What an honor it is to see you today."

"And you too, Millie." She started; the king knew her name. "I've heard you speaking around the city for the past few days. Now I need to talk to you myself."

Himself! Millie straightened, surprise visible in her eyes. The king needed to speak to her! Clearly her growing fame had spread all the way to the palace. And now at last…he even knew her name!

"Do you? Oh, I would be glad to tell you whatever you need, your majesty." Millie said respectfully, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. She had gained notice by the king. By the king of Narnia…things were looking up.

The king smiled. "Thank you, Millie. I'm glad. If you'd accompany me to the castle…?"

To the castle! Millie's day was looking marvelous. She'd finally get to see the inside of the beautiful Cair Paravel castle, having been summoned by the king, because he obviously heard something in her words that she liked.

"Gladly, my king." Millie said, getting down from the box she was on. "It would be an honor."

The king didn't say anything more as Millie followed him through the crowded streets and into the castle itself. Like most citizens of Cair, she'd always seen the castle but never actually been inside. And here she was being allowed! She was a nobody once. She wasn't one anymore.

She followed the king through magnificent hallways and marbled tiles. This was marvelous! She couldn't wait to get home and tell everyone about how splendid Cair Paravel was. Finally, the king stopped in what looked like a living room. There were three enormous plush couches, a fancy mahogany table, and a pot of tea in the center. The queen was sitting down on one of those couches holding a cup of tea. She broke into a smile upon seeing the king, and stood up to greet him. He walked over and kissed her once on each cheek, and then they both turned to Millie.

"Please, sit down," the queen said, gesturing to the space next to her. Millie was getting over her initial awe and it was all boiling down to an incredible excitement. She was in the presence of the king and queen, and they were depending on her for something! She'd certainly live up to their expectations.

Millie sat down on the couch. It was soft and squishy and she sank into it. It was softer than the riverbank she usually lounged on.

"Tea?" the queen offered, holding out a cup to her. Millie took the tea, adding a little sugar and a slice of lemon to it. The tea was hot and boiled from fresh leaves of a very fine quality. Millie sipped slowly, savoring the flavor.

"Thank you," Millie said.

"Now." The queen arranged two pillows behind her. "Millie, everyone around the city is talking about you." She said.

"Really?" Millie knew that already. Her name was whispered as she walked by, eyes going to her and some nodding and smiling.

"Oh yes. You're quite the popular Otter lately," the queen continued. "They're saying you're spreading words of wisdom across the city."

Millie laughed. "Some would call it that, yes,"

"Well, I'd like to hear some of these wise words." The queen said.

Millie blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Everything you say. It's very intriguing, and I'm interested in hearing what you have to say."

"Like what? I say a lot of things."

The queen met Millie's gaze evenly. "You speak of a witch," she said calmly. "I've heard that you are saying something about a witch being in our beloved city. I'd like to know more information about this witch in order to properly defend our city."

Millie stole a nervous glance at the king. The queen noticed this, and gave a small jerk of her head.

"Excuse me," the king said, standing up. "I've just remembered I have to meet Trumpkin and discuss something. Estelle, I trust you can handle this from here?"

"Of course I can, my dear," the queen replied with a smile. When the king left, the queen turned and looked intensely at Millie. "I'm sorry. My husband can be a bit intimidating at times. But don't worry about it at all. More tea?"

"Yes please," said Millie.

"So tell me about these witches." The queen said, but there was a strangeness about her voice that struck an odd chord with Millie. It sounded a little too intense. But then Millie remembered that it was their son, after all, who was under thrall of the witch. She couldn't blame them for being worried. "Tell me everything you know."

She owed the king and queen a lot. She owed them everything, as a matter of fact. And definitely a logical explanation of what was going on. So Millie took it as her personal obligation to give the queen her entire speech, the one she had been telling the people for the past few weeks. Only she used much fancier language and stopped to explain something every time the queen asked for one.

"Thank you, Millie," the queen said when Millie had finished. Millie smiled shyly, not used to being addressed by name. "It has been very informative, all you've said. And you say most of the city agrees with you?"

"Yes, your majesty," Millie said. "I mean, they listen when I talk and I've had a lot agree."

"Ah. That's good, then." The queen nodded. "Millie, you've done a great service to me. Anything I can do, just name it and it's yours."

Millie nearly fell off the couch in shock. The queen was…offering her something? A favor? To her!

This had undoubtedly been the strangest few weeks in Millie's entire life.

"There's nothing I can think of at the moment, your majesty," Millie said. "Just consider my words and think of what's best for Narnia."

The queen nodded again. "That's always what's most important. I'm glad you care as much for this land as we do." The queen rose, and Millie followed. "Thank you very much. It was a great honor for you to come here." Millie followed the queen out of the castle, and then ran all the way back to where she was staying.

The next day, she had twice the crowd she had before. Now that the king and queen believed her words, and word of _that _certainly spread fast, Millie was considered up there with the Owls as the number one dispenser of truth.

Things were turning out a lot better for Millie than she had ever dreamed of.

* * *

"Well, I'm leaving now," Nirisath announced. It was nearly midsummer and she had all her things, few as they were, packed up. "I'll only be gone for two weeks. Try not to blow this place up, hmm?"

Sarasael scowled at the reference but knew it wasn't meant in a mean way. "I don't see why you have to leave now," she said, frowning.

"Well? It's a yearly tradition. Come on now, you've been living with me for over a month now, you know how everything works. You'll be able to handle it just fine."

It wasn't like Sarasael had a choice. Every year, the naiads would assemble in Beruna Ford, sort of an unofficial family reunion. Not all naiads were related, but they were bonded in a sort of sisterhood and did enjoy the company of their own kind. They only met once a year, during the first week at midsummer. That was pretty much the only amount of time they could take together. Naiads dearly loved their fellows, but for the most part were solitary creatures and got irritable with an excess of socializing. Nirisath was honouring her obligations by going, and she'd be gone for about two weeks. Sarasael had asked her several times (no, begged) her not to, but Nirisath just shrugged and said she was going anyway.

"You can't leave," Sarasael protested yet again. "No one's going to come here with you gone. They don't like it when I try to heal them."

"Too bad for them," came Nirisath's reply. "Then they won't be healed. They'll have to get over that stupidity of theirs, as I have no intention of letting you go just yet. You'll make a fine healer, if you survive all I'll end up doing to you. So it's all up to them. You just do what you have to do, use that book of yours, use my references, we're all stocked up on herbs and anything we'd need. I saw to that. So there you go, it's not going to be a problem."

And that was the end of that. Nirisath opened the door, letting in a humid breeze from outside. "So I'll see you when I get back. Just send a letter if something absolutely dreadful happens that you need me for. Until then, house is all yours, knowledge is yours, go out and heal and I'll see you in two weeks." There were no tearful goodbyes, or goodbyes at all, because Nirisath didn't believe in that sort of thing. She merely gave a final nod, then closed the door and left.

Sarasael dropped herself on the couch and put her hands behind her head. A small smile crept across her face. As much as she was worried about handling the most well known healer's house in all Cair for the next two weeks…two weeks on her own! Two weeks where she'd be able to wake up on her own time, spend as much time with Rilian as she wanted without having to worry about being interrupted, yelled at, or made to go do something. She was completely on her own, and it was a nice feeling. Plus, she had a theory she wanted to try out. She knew her communication and white powder she couldn't recreate using anything in Narnia…they didn't have the major ingredients here. But what if she could do it another way? That was just the way it was done in Tahalset. Naturally, that was the best way. But what's to say she couldn't try a different combination? Instead of using the major ingredients, she could maybe try a different mix of ingredients, plus maybe some of her basic powder or some other one, and through that make a different one that could do the same things. It was a long stretch for someone who was only in her second year (technically she'd be in her third now) and self-taught, but it was an idea. And with Nirisath's entire house and supply at her fingertips, there was no saying she couldn't do that!

But for now, it was time for a nap.

Naps were nice. She hadn't known much of them lately. So she took a quick nap, and when she woke up, she opened her book, set up her workshop, and read a few chapters that dealt with making new magical theories. It was intensive work, but worth a shot. There were a few definite possibilities…it would take time to develop and test them, more than two weeks, but as long as she developed the main ones, that's what was important.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Maybe it was a patient! She closed the book and rubbed her eyes, bleary from looking at a text for so long. She answered the door, and a Ferret sneezed.

"Sorry," the Ferret apologized. "I've had this dreadful cough for days…you're not Nirisath, you're the other one."

"Yes I am," she replied with patience. It wasn't exactly nice to be called 'the other one', but at least the Ferret wasn't running away. "Nirisath is going to be gone for a few days. I can help you though,"

"Okay," the Ferret said with a loud, noisy sniff. It was clear he didn't care who helped him, not with a cold like this. He followed her inside and sat down in the chair Nirisath usually reserved for patients. Everyone knew this automatically.

"So what is it, bad cold?" Sarasael asked.

"Yes," the Ferret nodded. "Had it for days. It won't go away. It's a cold though. Get them every summer. Nirisath knows me, I'm Rani," he said with a nod, and then three loud sneezes, dispelling much to Sarasael's displeasure a large amount of bacteria into the air.

"Well Rani, just sit there and I'll bring you something for that cold." Sarasael went into the other room. What did Nirisath give for colds? No, nothing with colds, those couldn't be cured. She'd just give a few things for symptoms, there was some ginger root and echinacea right here. She could do that…

Sarasael didn't like using magic, but she really wanted to prove to Cair that it wasn't bad magic that she did. Rani looked pretty trusting, so it was worth a try. She gathered a tiny bit of red powder into her hand and went back into the other room.

"Here," she held her hands under Rani's nose. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

"That's not what Nirisath gives me for my cold."

"But it's what I'll give you. And then it'll go away, no problem. Okay?"

"Yes," And surprisingly, Rani took a deep breath, inhaling the powder. Sarasael said the proper words and felt the usual flash of magic ignited. There was an even louder sneeze, and a disgusting hunk of mucus landed on the floor. Rani rubbed his nose and then wrinkled it.

"That's nasty," Rani said.

"You're telling me," Sarasael agreed. "I've got to clean it up. How do you feel?"

Rani paused, and then grinned. "I feel fine!" he said. "I think my cold is gone."

"It is gone!" Sarasael said, clapping her hands together delightedly. "I knew it would work. Your cold won't come back for the rest of the summer now."

"Did you use magic to make it go away?"

"I did. See? And it worked."

"Ooh," Rani jumped off the chair. "Then it's not all bad magic, like everyone says. Thanks. I won't believe those rumors and I'll tell everyone they're not true! Thank you, er…"

"Sarasael,"

"Sure." Rani bounded out the door, full of life now that he was cured of his dreadful cold. And Sarasael just cured a patient, all by her magical self, and with no lasting harm, too. A career as a healer? She liked the sound of that. She'd have to go back to the Shuddering Woods and tell Rowan and the others that she decided to become a healer. Rowan would like that. So would Runningwind. She didn't know what Twitternut would think, but she was sure he'd poke her several times with that bloody sword of his just on principal.

See, things were going nicely now. There were always rough patches but they soon were smoothed over. The flood was over now more than a month, a lot of the rebuilding was getting done, and she was getting a good reputation, living with Nirisath. Everyone trusted Nirisath, and now they'd learn to trust her, too. Now the two weeks didn't seem so bad.

And they weren't bad. It was summer, which meant that there were a lot less illnesses going around. It was only winter, when everyone was cold and staying inside in close quarters, that disease spread faster. Any potential healer knew that. Summer there was less, but there was still allergies and other illnesses that didn't care about the season. For the next week, things went extremely well. She spent a lot of time with Rilian without Nirisath there to look down her nose disapprovingly at them, and only two people came for healing and she healed them both using her magic and it worked fine. Sure, they were suspicious, but it did work and they acknowledged it.

Pneumonia normally wasn't contracted during the summer. That's why Sarasael was so surprised when Starwing, an Owl, showed up feverish and barely able to breathe. She knew Starwing…not by sight, but by name. The parliament of Owls met just outside of Cair in the Great Woods, and if anyone wanted advice and wanted to know the truth of the matter, they'd go there. The parliament didn't have a leader (that, the Owls believed, was unwise, as everyone had an opinion and an idea that could be equally intelligent), but Starwing was as close as they could possibly come. He was very old and seen a lot in his time, and his advice was always wise and helpful. He was well respected and his name was practically synonymous with intelligence.

"I was told," Starwing said between horrible rattling coughs, "That Nirisath is not here but you would be able to help me as well. They say you've been training with her and are capable of healing." Starwing's whole body shuddered as he coughed and leaned against Sarasael's side. He was also large for an Owl.

She put an arm out to steady him, and his feathers were wet with perspiration. Owls weren't immune to pneumonia…but…she tried to remember what she had learned…the strain that Owls contracted was different than what others might. Owls were more likely to contract viral pneumonia, and that was a worse kind. Bacterial, there was nothing that either her magic or Nirisath's herbs could at least make headway in curing. Viral was nasty…viruses were always nasty, they'd multiply, you'd kill some and twenty would arise. They also quickly latched onto the Owl's immune system and weakened it so they could multiply further.

"It'll be fine," Sarasael said reassuringly, using the healer voice she heard Nirisath use all the time. "You're safe with me, I'll be able to cure you." Not that it would be easy, mind you. But she could do it, right? She'd been studying long enough, both with Nirisath and out of her book.

"I'll believe you," Starwing said, his voice hoarse from coughing. Pneumonia was always worse on Owls because of their being nocturnal. During the night was when most people slept and regenerated, and for Owls it was the opposite. The fact that he was awake right now was a bad sign. "They say you're learning enough,"

"I am," she said soothingly, finding him one of Nirisath's smaller rooms. You didn't put Owls into a bed, of course. You found them a perch or a small nest. She'd have to go make a nest for him now, that's the only way he'd be comfortable. For now, she let him stay in the room while she gathered a pile of blankets in her arms and brought them to the room, arranging them in a makeshift nest and helping Starwing get into them. He clacked his beak in appreciation for her thinking, instead of putting him in a bed like she would do with anyone else.

"I know it's not the best," she said apologetically when he was settled. "But it's all I can do for now. I'll find a way to get you a better next, okay? For now, just sleep. I'll make you some willowbark tea for the fever and wake you up to take that. I know Owls sleep during the daytime."

Starwing blinked in agreement. "Thank you. I trust myself in your hands." He answered, then closed his eyes and folded his wings tight against his body.

Well, no pressure, then, she thought dryly as she took a sliver of willow bark from storage and set it on the table while she boiled water over the fire. She chopped up the bark and waited for the water to boil. The poor thing was dreadfully sick, and she was sure she'd be able to cure it…they'd dealt with enough pneumonia before. But it was still an awful lot of pressure for an apprentice. But so was living like this, having to take over for two weeks while Nirisath met with the other naiads, and she seemed to be living up to that just fine, despite the rumors.

She wasn't stupid. She heard the rumors. It was impossible not to, impossible not to notice the stares as she left once to gather some ginger root from just outside the city, or when she went to buy a new dress or some food to keep in the house with her. They all thought she was a witch, a filthy lying witch…but she'd disprove that. She'd show them that she was no witch. She already started, by healing those others and keeping this place going in Nirisath's absence. Starwing was wise and respected, and if she healed him, he was sure to say nice things about her. It would work out. She was convinced it would.

The water boiled and hissed, and she threw in the willow bark and covered the top for twenty minutes until it was finished boiling. She added some cinnamon for good measure to get rid of the bitter flavor, even though she wasn't sure how much of a developed sense of taste Owls had. What else was done to cure pneumonia? It was always nastier in Owls, should she add some of her own magic to it? Yes, that would work. She went and got her book and flipped through it, seeing what it said about pneumonia. It would take two grams of healing powder, she'd measure that out, and a gram of enchantment to help the patient sleep and give their body a chance to heal and fight the virus. That, in addition with the normal herbs and whatnot, would give Starwing a high chance of survival.

While the tea boiled, she wrote a quick letter to Rilian asking him to come down as soon as possible. He would most likely know something about Owl nests or whatever Owls did. She sent the letter out with a messenger outside and went back in to check on Starwing. He was sleeping in his makeshift nest, but she didn't like the rattle in his chest.

The tea kettle whistled, and she took the pot off the fire and put it on the table next to her and poured a cup. The distinctive sharp odor of willow bark filled the room, and she wrinkled her nose. She'd had enough of this during the winter months.

Now, how much was it? Two grams healing and one gram enchantment. She measured out the exact amount and sprinkled it all in, saying the proper words and then putting the cover on the cup until the powder had fully dissolved. Then she put out the fire and looked at the clock…it would take at least fifteen minutes.

The door opened.

"Sara? What is it?" Rilian sounded worried.

She turned around. "Oh, come in," she said. "I was wondering if you knew what Owls use for their nests."

He blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

"Owls. You know Owls. What they use for their nests. I don't know and I was figuring you might."

Rilian walked in, looking at the dead fire and at Sarasael who was checking her watch in front of a pot of tea. He couldn't help but note how comfortable she looked in this setting, acting as a healer in Nirisath's absence. "You called me all the way from Cair to ask me what Owls sleep in?"

"Is that a problem?" she raised an eyebrow. "You always said to call you if I needed anything."

"Yes, I know, but…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "People are going to ask questions, since I had to run all the way here on such short notice, and without telling my parents."

"Then let them ask." Sarasael replied. "I thought you didn't care what people think in terms of you and I, or so you told me."

"I don't care, it's just…after everything that happened with the flood."

"That was months ago."

"Well, people don't forget. And my parents, I think they're still suspicious."

"What? They think I'm a witch?" Sarasael stood up and put her hands on her hips, glaring. "And did you say anything against that? You know I'm not, and they're not going to listen to me if I say it. I hear the whispers as well as you, and I'm not going to take it. But if I walk out there and tell them, they're not going to listen. They think enchantress and witch are the same thing, and unless I lie about it all, they're not going to listen or believe me. I was hoping you would do this for me, try to stop the rumors."

"I did!" Rilian held out his hands in a supplicating gesture. "I told them, but what, you think they believe everything I say too? I'm young, and they think easily straying from the path." He sat down next to her. "That's what they say about me, so don't you go yelling at me like this. I have rumors about me, too. They say you're enchanting me."

"Well, tell them I'm not!" she sighed. "I don't even know how to enchant people. Honestly, is Nirisath the only one around here who doesn't think my magic isn't terrible?"

"I don't, if it means anything."

She sighed again. "I'm sorry," Sarasael said. "I didn't mean that. This is just getting ridiculous, and I've been up all day worrying about Starwing. He has this dreadful case of pneumonia and I have to try to cure him, even with Nirisath gone. I know I shouldn't try this, but what else can I do? Pneumonia's always worse in Owls."

"Hey, I know," he shook his head and put an arm around her shoulders. "I haven't been trying enough, but I'll keep telling them, okay? Have to learn to stand on my own someday."

"And make it soon. So do you know anything about Owl bedding?"

"Yes, I do. Wait, you said it was Starwing?" He looked surprised.

"Why? And yes it is. He's in the other room, if you want to see him. You probably should, he'll like seeing you, being that you're the noble prince and everything."

"I'll go in with you."

"Thank you." She lifted the lid on the tea and peered inside. The steam curled and smelled oddly pungent for willow bark tea…good, the powder had dissolved and it was ready now. "I'm going to go give him this. Help me wake him up, will you?"

Rilian nodded and followed her into the room where Starwing was sleeping. His wings were folded tightly shut and he coughed slightly in his sleep.

"Oh no." Rilian said, looking at Starwing.

"What? What is it?"

"He's one of the eldest of the Owls." Rilian walked over and gently lay a hand on his feathered shoulder. "I know you're not going to like hearing this, but…a few years ago we had a very old Deer stay at the palace, and she died of a bronchitis…lung…thing. Because she was very old and the healer…it wasn't Nirisath, it was someone else…said that part of the reason for her death was her lungs being weakened from age."

"Oh, gods," Sarasael set the cup down on the nightstand. "That better not be the case here. Nevertheless…age doesn't matter. It's pneumonia, I can cure it." Her face was hard and set with determination. "Nirisath taught me plenty and I have my magic, too. I can do this. He's _my _patient and I'm going to take care of him. Wake him up for me?"

Rilian shook Starwing gently. "Starwing? I need you to wake up."

The Owl hooted softly and stirred, but didn't wake up.

"Starwing, please, come on." Rilian shook him again, but the Owl didn't wake. Rilian looked apologetically at Sarasael. "Sorry, I'm no good at this healer thing." He said.

"Don't worry about it. Here, just take the tea and let me do it." Rilian took the mug and Sarasael stood next to Starwing. She rested a hand on his wing joint and whispered a few things in what Rilian figured was her native tongue, a light, trilling language. Then she said a few things softly in regular Narnian, and Starwing stirred and opened his eyes, focusing them on her.

"Good morning," he said quietly, and Rilian thought could hear the wisdom in his voice even now. "What is it?"

"Starwing, look, I've brought you something to drink. It will help you get better."

"What is it?"

"Just some tea I made." She nodded to Rilian. "And look, the prince has come to visit you, too. Everyone is hoping you will get better quickly."

"The prince, eh?" Starwing blinked his enormous yellow eyes at Rilian. "Well, good day to you, your majesty. It's an honor you would come to see me. I am hoping that you are making wise decisions in life."

"I try,"

"Well, good for you."

Sarasael took the cup from Rilian. The tea was still steaming. "Here, Starwing, drink this. It will help fight the pneumonia and also help you to sleep without so much coughing."

The Owl tilted his head. "That's not just willow bark. What else is in it?"

"Just some cinnamon so it doesn't taste as bitter," she said, not telling him everything. It wouldn't do to have him get all suspicious on her when it was imperative he listened to her and took all she had made for him. But he didn't question her any further and drank the tea without question. He was asleep within minutes.

"There. See, he's going to be fine." Sarasael sounded quite sure of herself when she said that. "No problems at all. It's just pneumonia. So, do you know anything about Owl nests?"

"Owl nests," Rilian looked thoughtful. "I think so. I went to a parliament of Owls once, but it was a few years ago…oh well, I think I remember most of it. We'll have to go out into the Forest to get it, think you can spare some time?"

Starwing was sleeping, and with what she gave him, he'd sleep for hours yet. And so far there weren't any other patients…yes, she could spare the time needed. It was for a good cause after all.

"Sure, there's plenty of time now. Lead on, you know the way better than I do." Sarasael followed Rilian out of the house, locking the door behind her. He went a back way out of the city, so they didn't have to go through the main gates. It was an entrance she didn't know about…led right into the Great Wood.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Rilian ordered, placing a finger to his lips as he showed her the entrance. "Only a few people know. It's a weak spot in Cair's defenses, people can get in from here. I discovered it a few years ago by accident…it's the easiest way to get into the Woods unknown."

She followed him through the path, crowded with shrubbery and low hanging branches. "Well, it's good to know since you'll be king and all," She said, ducking as a branch snapped back into place over her head. "In case there's enemies that will arise or something."

"Exactly. That's why I haven't told anyone."

"You know something your father doesn't?"

"Yes," Rilian replied, slight satisfaction in his voice. He was always tired of living under his father's shadow, though he told no one except Sarasael about that. She had known from the beginning and understood…she was the only girl in a family of older brothers, and even though she went to the Girls' School, her brother's reputations had preceded her, both the good and the bad. "I can defend the city if I had to. Not that there would be any reason to, there haven't been any enemies here in years."

"What about those Calormene people?"

The path opened into the Great Wood, a vast expanse of old trees, both regular trees and some with dryads living with them. It was darker here, for the canopy of leaves on top was so thick it kept out a lot of sunlight. During high summer the trees were at the height of their bloom.

"Oh, Calormenes," Rilian said with the usual arrogance of boys his age. "They try and take over Narnia all the time. No one really takes them seriously unless they actually launch an attack. Mostly we just leave each other alone."

"They didn't seem so intent on doing that when we met them." Sarasael said, looking around the woods.

"Well…that was…just a small group. They weren't that serious. They just acted that way. _And _we got away from that." He finished. "So…if we can do that, and how old are you?"

"Sixteen. I'll be seventeen next month."

"Then? We defeated Calormenes already. There's no end to what we can do later, right? Narnia is safe in my hands. And in yours."

And in hers. She did love Narnia, but the thought was still too strange and unsettling. She hadn't given up the thought that she would still go home someday, no matter how impossible and unlikely it may be. She just couldn't abandon that thought…to give up that would be to give up hope of everything. Sometimes impossible things did happen. Look at this now, she was living in another world working with a naiad as assistant healer and loved by a prince. That sort of thing was impossible but it happened. Therefore logically, she could…no, she _would_…get home someday.

"So what do the Owls need?" Sarasael asked.

"Oh! Right. It's just around here…"

They spent the rest of the afternoon gathering what was needed. It was done pretty quickly, so they spent what was left of the afternoon together in the woods before hurrying back home that night, losing track of time yet again.

Starwing was still sleeping and showed no indication of having awoken the entire time they were in the forest. Sarasael laid a hand on his head, which was still hot with fever.

"Is that good?" Rilian asked. The Owl's breathing was shallow.

"No," She said, tugging nervously on a curl of her hair. "I'll have to give him more of the tea to help…wake him up while I make it?"

"Yes, I'll do that."

She went back and brewed more tea, this time adding less enchantment and more healing. That would work then…she probably had the ratios wrong the first time around. It was different with Owls than people. She came back and Starwing was blinking at her in bewilderment.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Her hands tightened around the mug of tea and she had a very bad feeling about this.

"No one important," she replied. "I'm just here to help you."

"Really?" he blinked again. "Well, then go ahead, I suppose that's good. Is Nightclaw home yet? Foolish young thing that he is."

"Nightclaw's coming home soon," she said soothingly. "Now drink this, and he'll be home for certain when you wake up again."

The Owl nodded and obeyed, then succumbed to a vicious fit of coughing before falling back to sleep again.

Sarasael put the empty mug on the table. "Was he like this when you woke him up?"

"Yes," Rilian replied gravely. "I'm guessing this is not a good thing."

"He's not quite delirious but very near it. That happens with high fever. I don't know how the fever managed to get so high…I gave him all I could for it. But this time it'll work, the fever will break by morning for sure." She wished she felt as sure as she sounded. Fever shouldn't work this quickly on anyone. But it was Owls…at least she was learning a lot about Owls this way.

Starwing's breathing was still shallow and rattled horribly in his chest.

He would be cured. She never let anyone die and neither did Nirisath. She wouldn't let him die anymore than their other pneumonia patients back in the winter. She could cure him, she had the capability. And he was her patient, _hers_, and she took care of everything that was hers.

"What time is it?" asked Rilian.

"I don't know." Sarasael replied distractedly. She had to worry about this Owl now, more than she had expected to.

Rilian opened the curtains, and paled, seeing the sun already low on the horizon. "I have to go," he said, his voice low. "I've been gone for a long time, they're going to notice, I have to make something up when they ask where I was." He put on his jacket.

"Don't make something up," Sarasael looked up from the book she had opened to see if there was anything there that could help her. "Tell them. Rilian, you shouldn't be afraid. If you're afraid of what they're going to say about our relationship, maybe we should even have it at all."

"Sara! Don't be ridiculous." He shook his head. "Sara, I love you. And you're right. I'll tell them, and they'll have to get used to it."

"Good idea." She closed the book, which was still no help at all. She stood up and put her arms around Rilian. "I love you too, and I want this to work as much as you do. But we both have to be more open, okay? I'll stop hiding in Nirisath's and go out among Cair and act like I don't hear the rumors…if you'll do the same with your family. I know it's been a problem…" she reached out and stroked his cheek. "But we can get through this, okay? It'll all work out in the end."

"I always love your optimism. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." They kissed and then he left, and Sarasael went back to watch over Starwing.

It was a long, sleepless night. She stayed in the room with him to check on his condition, which didn't change at all. There was only the harsh sound of his breathing, jarring her out of the bits of sleep she managed to catch. Was this what Nirisath had to deal with all the time? Morning came and she could barely keep her eyes open. Starwing was just waking up too, swaying in the nest that she had made.

"Miss," Starwing croaked.

"Eh?" she needed some tea. She forced her eyes open and blinked them several times. "What is it?"

"Miss," Starwing said again. "Miss, please, bring me water?"

At least he was awake and knew who he was. That was better than yesterday…a good sign.

"I'll get right on that," she went into the main room…no, there wasn't anything there. She'd have to go outside to the well. Sarasael pushed the door open and stepped outside. It was morning and the air was still cool. Later it would be humid and sticky…such was the price of living near the ocean. The cool air was somewhat refreshing, though she was still exhausted. She stumbled into the backyard where the well was and reeled the bucket down to get some water.

"Who's that water for?" a voice demanded from behind her.

Sarasael turned around. There was an Otter standing there, hands on hips. Sarasael thought she might have recognized that Otter from somewhere, but after being up all night with Starwing, her mind was fuzzy.

"That's for Starwing," she replied, reeling the bucket back up. "He's terribly sick and needs the water. Why?" she staggered away from the well, holding the full bucket with both hands, the handle cutting into her palms.

"He is sick! It was said at the parliament of Owls that he was, and everyone is terribly worried." The Otter looked genuinely scared. She was twisting her fingers together and her tail swished frantically against the floor. "My name is Millie, and he knows me, Starwing was a friend of my mother's and I am ever so worried. He'll recognize me, please let me see him?"

Oh, Millie. Sarasael remembered the Otter from…oh, it was awhile back. That was the nasty Otter that bit her in the hand when she tried to cure Sempres. Sarasael scowled, wanting to send the blasted creature away. She didn't have time for this, not with Starwing as sick as he was. She had to get him that water quickly and give him more of her tea.

"Well, I'm sorry," Sarasael replied. "He is sick and I wouldn't recommend visitors. He has a very bad case of pneumonia and I don't want it to spread. Starwing is in capable hands, don't worry about it." She hefted the bucket up and started walking back towards the house.

"But he knows me," pleaded Millie, and she looked sincere. "He would want to see me. He knew my mother. Please, it will only be a minute."

Sarasael sighed. "I can't do that, sorry." She walked back inside. "Starwing is very sick and can't receive visitors until he is well. Once he is better, once the fever has broken, you can come and see him, okay?"

"But I need to see him about something," Millie frowned.

"You can wait. Just…just wait, I'm busy." Sarasael knew she was being brusque with that Otter, but Starwing was terribly sick and Sarasael had to cure him. There was no other option, and she couldn't have Otters bothering her. So she brushed past Millie and went inside, taking a cup of water and giving it to Starwing. He drank gratefully, and she wheedled him to eat a little before he went back to sleep. Sarasael opened the window to get some fresh air in the room.

The day passed and Starwing didn't improve. Rilian came and helped her through the day, convincing Starwing to eat more and then trying to talk sense into that Otter who came back again in the hopes that she would be allowed to see him. He chased her away, apologizing for being rude and promising her that he'd tell her as soon as Starwing improved. All Millie did was look at him critically before leaving. Rilian took the watch during the day, giving Sarasael a chance to sleep for a little while. He knew next to nothing about healing and was told only to give Starwing some of the tea she had already prepared. He did that with some difficulty, because the Owl now just wanted to sleep and forget about anything else. It was too hard to breathe, Starwing complained, but when he was asleep he didn't notice that. Then he refused the tea altogether. That Rilian knew was bad, so he woke up Sarasael who was sleeping on the couch with her head in her arms.

"What's wrong?" she murmured groggily, lifting her head.

"Starwing's refusing the tea," Rilian said nervously. "He's getting worse, even I can tell that. It's not going to be good…I don't know if the tea is helping."

Sarasael staggered out of bed and back to Starwing. She tried to wake him up, and it took far longer than usual. When he did, he only shook his head at her.

"Leave me alone, healer," he said angrily. "I don't want anything you have for me. Just let me sleep, let me be! All you healers are the same, going around bothering patients at all hours of the day. But bring me Nightclaw. I want to see him."

"I'll get a message to him right away, as soon as you drink this." She held out the tea. Bribing patients was not usually a good idea, but Nirisath did it all the time. Most healers did, really…sometimes it was the only way to get them to do what you wanted them to do.

Starwing gave a small sigh, for he wasn't capable of a deep one, but obeyed Sarasael before falling to sleep again.

"What's to be done?" Rilian asked, his brows creased with worry. "This isn't looking good."

"I know." Sarasael tugged even harder on a lock of hair than usual, biting her lip as well. "I gave him everything that could be done to fight pneumonia. I gave him the stuff that Nirisath always gave her patients, plus my own healing…but it's not working."

"He's old," Rilian suggested. "That's probably a large part of it."

"But what if he dies!" Sarasael exclaimed. "If he dies that would be the worst thing that could happen. He's too honored, everyone loves Starwing."

"He's not going to die."

"I…I don't know."

"When's Nirisath coming back?"

"Two days."

"He'll survive those two days, I'm sure of it. Then Nirisath will know what to do." As usual, it sounded ten times more believable when he said it.

"Really?"

"Of course. Nirisath knows everything and you're pretty good at healing."

"I guess so."

Rilian had to leave for a meeting, and then Sarasael spent the rest of the day with Starwing. Night came again, and with no improvement. Now he was only sleeping, the breath coming shallowly in his chest. Sarasael ended up using her own magic to keep her awake so she could watch him. It took three times as much effort to wake him up in the night as it had before…things weren't going well at all.

The next morning came, and the next afternoon, and now she couldn't wake him up at all. Rilian came at his normal time, and they both sat nervously in the room together with Starwing. He was breathing slower, but much to Sarasael's relief, his lungs sounded clear. She listened to his chest and the rattling was gone entirely. Though the breathing was shallow, it was clear, and that was on the road to improvement. The fever had broken and the worst was over. She felt almost limp with relief.

"Things are looking better?" Rilian asked.

She nodded. "I think so." She pressed a hand to his forehead and his chest and gave a sigh of relief. "He sounds much better. See, listen."

Rilian tilted his head. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly."

He grinned at her, and she smiled back. "I can do this," she said, throwing her arms around him. "I can do this!"

"You can."

Sarasael gave Starwing a smaller nudge, and he opened his eyes wide.

"Good morning, healer," he said.

"Feel any better?" asked Sarasael anxiously.

The Owl didn't say anything, merely blinked again. That could mean yes or no, but she took it to mean yes. "Aslan is waiting for me," Starwing said gravely.

"Oh. Well, that's good!" she gave him an encouraging smile. In Tahalset, saying a god was waiting for you meant that he was helping you to live. Gods were not anxious for someone to join them in the afterlife…they preferred that their beloved people lived long and happy lives on earth before coming to them. It was unheard of for the great Yarrin to call someone into death unless it was truly their time. People in Tahalset lived longer lives than Narnia…not by much, but their gods watched wisely over them. Sarasael took this as a good sign…Aslan, who she figured must be Narnia's chief god or only god (from the way Rilian always spoke reverently of him…she'd never actually _seen _Aslan and didn't believe wholeheartedly in him, but she never saw Yarrin either and knew that someday she would see him. She figured it all worked out in the end), would want the same thing.

"Yes," Starwing agreed. "I have waited for him for a very long time, and now at last it is my time to be with him. He is greater and wiser than I could ever hope to be. You've done your best, healer."

"Thanks," she smiled, embarrassed at the high praise by this Owl. "I'm glad you think so, I want to be a healer like Nirisath."

"You'll make a fine healer I'm sure." Starwing nodded. He looked at Rilian too. "And you will make…make a fine king, in the years to come. It will not be easy for you though." His wings gave a small flutter. "It will take you a long time before you become king, but when you do…Narnia will have peace."

Rilian looked confused. "Well, obviously, my parents aren't going to die…"

"Not yet, of course." Starwing agreed. "But in the future. Though your time to be king will be far longer than you expect, my prince." He glanced nervously towards Sarasael. "She is a wise healer now, yes. Try to keep being that healer. And prince, you be careful, too." Starwing's eyes closed, and Sarasael figured he was going to sleep again in order to keep recovering. After all, he was finally sounding good.

"Thanks again," Sarasael said. "I'm glad that you think so. Sleep well, and when you wake up I'll keep helping you get better and then there's this Otter who wants to see you."

"Millie. Yes. I knew her family, tell her my best wishes are with her too." Starwing said, and his voice sounded content. "Stay well, my prince, and you too, healer. Blessed to you and to all my Owls, give them my regards." He closed his eyes.

Sarasael was about to say, "Give them yourself, I'll let them come see you when you're better tomorrow" except she was cut off when Starwing didn't take another breath. His wings closed and he settled in his nest with the quietest clack of his beak. There was a faint sound to the air, like a distant roar carried on the wind, and then no further breath issued from Starwing.

Neither Rilian nor Sarasael moved at first. She turned to him in confusion, not understanding. Starwing's lungs were clear and he was going to be fine, that much was obvious. Even someone who wasn't a healer would be able to know that. So…so what…

"He's not dead," Sarasael said flatly. "He was recovering."

Rilian leaned forward, eyes wide, and placed a hand on Starwing's chest. His hand didn't move at all. "Starwing is with Aslan now," Rilian whispered reverently.

"Aslan…but…he said nothing of that! He was recovering, how can he be dead now?" she was this close to shaking Starwing herself. "See, I had him all set to keep living and everything. There's no way he can be dead. He's the eldest of the owls, the most honored elder and if he's dead then the council won't…have an elder…or whatever owls have. Owls. Excuse me. I forgot." Frantically, she placed a hand on his chest and then opened his beak.

"Sara, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to resuscitate him. They do that in my world if someone dies too soon. They can bring someone back to life right now, see, you breathe into their mouths and press on their chests like…"

"Sara! Stop that!" he caught her hands, which she had folded across Starwing's chest. "Sara, he's dead, he's with Aslan now. Aslan has called him home…that's what they do here. It was his time."

"No it wasn't!" she exclaimed, running a hand over his forehead and chest and back, thinking of what she could do. There was a lot of powder she had left, some she had recently made, surely something there would be able to bring him back to life.

She ran into the other room to gather her supplies, putting the two powders together in very small amounts, her hand poised above to say the words.

"Sara, stop!" Rilian almost shouted. "Look, Starwing's at peace. Can't you see that?"

"No, I'm going to bring him back. He won't die on my watch. He's my patient and I don't let my patients _die._"

"Sara, he's already dead. Look at me, come on, look." He brought his hand around her face and turned her face to his. "Sara, Starwing was very old and wise. He's lived a long and successful life and many looked up to him. He was suffering in his sickness and was going to die anyway, and...this happens sometimes when one is suffering. I've heard about this happening before." His voice dropped. "Aslan will take away the pain and the sickness so they can die peacefully. It is his way. He took pity on Starwing and did that."

Sarasael fell back, sitting numbly on the chair. "He's dead," she said faintly. "I was healing him and he died."

"Rest peacefully in Aslan's country," Rilian said, resting a hand on Starwing's head.

Sarasael rubbed her fingers in the palm of her hand. "Yarrin take thee peacefully to thy rest," she said instinctively. "Aresia, though no longer does Starwing's thread run through your pattern, let his color shine brighter in your tapestry so that we may look over the patterns of the past and see how he affected all things. Phiraes, from the tower of your heavens, keep watch on all things…" slowly and deliberately, she went through the entire Tahalset pantheon, asking them to bless Starwing and forgive her for not succeeding in healing him. She knew that her gods wouldn't have any responsibility for Starwing, as he wasn't one of theirs, but they were still her gods and she was the healer in question.

She finished her prayer, and bowed her head low in respect for the dead. Rilian finished as well, blessing him in his own princely way.

"What now? Nirisath doesn't return until tomorrow. What am I going to do? I tried to heal him, I really did." She pulled on her hair hard. "I tried everything. What am I going to tell the people when they ask? Oh, Starwing, why did you have to die? I need Nirisath to be here. Maybe I should write to her."

"If she's coming back tomorrow, don't bother. Here, I'll have to go give notice of Starwing's death. I'll tell my parents and they'll come for him. He was wise and respected and we'll give him a proper burial, even though he is already with Aslan. You did all you could…I'm sure even Nirisath couldn't cure him. He was very sick." Rilian stood up, his face serious. "I'll be back, Sara. You just stay here."

There really wasn't anything else she could do. She went over to the couch in the other room and curled up tight, resting her chin on her knees and letting her hair fall all over her face. She didn't know Starwing well enough to cry, but she did anyway…someone had died on her watch. She tried to heal someone and failed. She wasn't a good healer…she was still studying and Nirisath was away, and she did the best she could for being completely on her own. But he still died, just taken away and she thought he was going to live. She was so _sure_ he would! There wasn't…any reason…

What would Nirisath say? Would she be angry or disappointed? And what would the rest of Cair say when they found out that someone had died when she tried to heal…maybe they wouldn't find out. Maybe when Nirisath came back she could fix it, or Rilian could. He could fix anything.

She went back into the other room where Starwing had died. She was a healer in training and therefore should be used to death…she'd been to a wake back at home for one of her old teachers. She had seen death before…but never right in front of her. It was a terrible feeling…made her feel like Aresia was staring at her thread as she watched Starwing, and that any second Aresia was going to shake her head and decided that she took up too much space and therefore should no longer be woven. Sarasael wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, cold in the high summer weather. Starwing was in a better place…he was with Aslan, which was good. But death's mysterious and threatening chill still pervaded the room. She reached out to touch his body, and it was colder now, as death found its way into the empty body. He was dead. She'd failed as a healer and now there was no Starwing, no honored elder…she'd let an innocent Owl die. A wise and respected innocent owl.

The door opened and Sarasael whirled around, so startled that she fell on the floor with a thump. It was Nirisath…the naiad stood there holding her small bag, her mouth open as if she was about to say something, but she thought the better of it and snapped it shut. Sarasael scooted away from her, suddenly as terrified of what Nirisath was going to do to her as she was of the dead owl.

"Please," Sarasael whispered. "I can explain, I really can."

Nirisath, for the first time in her life, was speechless. "I…we…Miss Inari, this is…I don't…" finally she just coughed, trying to make it seem like she wasn't stammering a moment ago. Nirisath cleared her throat and her face was fixed into a much more stern expression. "Sarasael Inari, get off the floor and look at me. Sit there…" she pointed at the other chair. "And don't say anything to me just yet." Sarasael obeyed and sat, folding her hands in her lap and twisting her fingers into the fabric of her dress.

Nirisath sat across from Sarasael and gave a deep sigh. "I came home early. The gathering was finished, so I decided to come home and see if you needed any help. Sarasael, I taught you well and know you are a capable healer. Therefore, there is no reason…none whatsoever! Why there should be a dead Owl in my house as we speak. Look at me, Inari, and tell me, before we go any further."

Sarasael told everything, and it call came out in a terrified and panicked rush, like she was afraid once the words passed her lips that they would be lost forever. She finished and buried her head in her hands. "Nirisath, I don't know what to do." She almost wailed.

"Starwing." Nirisath said. "I knew him well. He was wise, and I am so sorry he had to die. Sarasael, will you leave me alone for a moment? I need to say my own farewells."

Sarasael nodded and ran into the other room, slamming the door behind her and throwing herself back down on the couch. Nirisath didn't sound mad at her…but one could never tell with naiads, especially her because she acted the same no matter what. Her gruff manner was normal, but…oh, she didn't know! This was just ridiculous and she was afraid and wanted to go home, but once again there was no home to go to except for this one. Why did he die? She did all she could to save him.

Now there was a knock at the door. Sarasael had half a mind not to answer it…she wanted to be left alone and figured Nirisath would too. But the door opened all on its own accord, and…and it was Rilian, with the king and the queen.

Sarasael instinctively leaped to her feet and curtsied. "Your majesties," she said, trying not to betray the confusion and fear in her voice. "So kind of you to come today."

The king walked into the room, his eyes taking in everything and missing nothing, not even the tone of Sarasael's voice.

He looked at her intensely. "Starwing is dead?" he asked, his voice calm. She nodded.

"Yes, he just died," she said, her voice small and terrified. She held out her hands to Rilian, desperately seeking his guidance.

He took her hands and pulled her into a brief embrace.

"What did you tell them?" she whispered into his ear.

"Everything that happened. Don't think I didn't, don't think I'd be saying bad things about you. They believe me, I think."

She wanted to say more, but couldn't with the king there. "Nirisath came home early," she said instead.

"She did? Well, is that good?"

"She's in there with Starwing," Sarasael's eyes flicked towards the closed door.

"Enough," the king said, his powerful voice sounding definitely like it should be in some grand castle instead of a small healer's house on the riverbanks. "Starwing was a great and honourable Owl, I knew him well. Please take me to him."

Sarasael wanted to protest. Nirisath wasn't done, and everyone knew you didn't interrupt Nirisath when she was busy. But he was the king. She was sure it could be done for a king. So she pointed into the room where she was, and everyone went into the room yet again.

Nirisath was on her knees, her hands out and her face up, like she was meditating. The door opened and she almost fell over, which was a strange sight to see, since normally she was so calm and composed.

"Your majesties," Nirisath rose to her feet with much more grace than Sarasael had. "I was not informed of your visit."

"Our son has told us," the king rested a firm hand on Rilian's shoulders. "All that took place here. We have come to pay our last respects to Starwing and bring him to his burial. He was a great Owl and we will all miss him very much. Pneumonia is a terrible way to die,"

"If you'll pardon me," Nirisath said with a slight bow. "I have been away for two weeks and have given Sarasael complete control of my house and the healing done. I taught her and thought…no, I knew she was ready to at least take over for me for this small amount of time I was gone. Pneumonia in Owls is a terrible thing, as I'm sure you all know. It is difficult to cure. I'm not sure even I could have done it. He was very old, you understand, and I would not have wanted anything to happen to him either. Your majesties, there is a lot I have to discuss with my assistant."

The king wanted to say something, but the queen lay a hand on his arm. "Nirisath, thank you." The queen said, and her voice was every bit as royal as his. "Starwing was honored, and we need him to come with us so we can give him a proper funeral. I am sure your apprentice had nothing to do with it. Just please give us some time as well."

Nirisath nodded and turned to Starwing, trying to set her face into a mask of indifference when she felt great grief at the Owl's death.

"Miss Inari, come with me." Nirisath indicated for Sarasael to follow her into a different part of the house. Sarasael hesitated, wanting to stay with Rilian, but had to obey her mentor.

They went into one of the back rooms where the herbs were stored.

"I didn't do it," Sarasael said meekly.

Nirisath shook her head. "I'm sure you didn't, but we have to be careful. I come back through the city and…well, to be straightforward with you, they're talking about you all over the city. Once word of Starwing's death gets out, things…will continue to be difficult. Sarasael, I want you to stay in this house for the next week…don't leave. If you need something, ask me and I will go out and get it for you. Then hopefully everything will calm down, okay?"

"Why? What's going to happen?" Sarasael was really thinking, what are they going to do to her, but she didn't voice that thought out loud.

"Let's not think of what might happen." Nirisath ordered. "And let's just keep it from happening." Nirisath left and went back to speak to the king and queen, leaving Sarasael alone in the herb room, lost and praying desperately to Yarrin and Aresia and anyone who would listen that nothing would happen to her now.


	13. Chapter 13

((Thank you very much! All reviews are much appreciated, it makes me happy to know that people are reading this))

The week passed, and Sarasael did exactly what Nirisath said and stayed. She stayed in the house, working through daily chores as though in a dream. If there were any rumors (which no doubt there were), she didn't hear them, nor did Nirisath say anything. After Starwing's funeral, Nirisath moved on as if nothing had happened. She was sure that there was a lot more going on in Nirisath's mind than she was being told, but didn't ask questions. She just tried her best to do likewise and act like nothing happened, but it was difficult. She couldn't talk to Rilian at all and he didn't come to see her, and she couldn't go outside for fear that something would happen to her. Nirisath said that it was unfortunately possible, but that she would work on talking to the people. They'd listen to her…Nirisath was respected and people honored her.

After a week and a half had passed, Nirisath decided it should be safe for Sarasael to go out. They needed more noolu moss, and that grew close to the riverbanks. "So you go out and get that," Nirisath said with a curt nod. "And come back quickly. Make sure…I think this is complete rubbish, but make sure no one sees you, alright? People can be complete imbeciles when they choose to be, and right now, they are."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Sarasael said, looking down.

"I know. You know. They…" she pointed out the window. "don't. Not yet, at least. So please be careful, because believe it or not you're an invaluable asset to me, I can't do everything myself these days. And eventually when you're your own healer, you'll be able to do these things too. Now go get the noolu moss quickly."

Sarasael pulled her hair up in a ponytail and threw a shawl over her shoulders even though it was high summer. She'd be maybe a little less recognizable these days. She opened the door and went outside, keeping her head down and thinking this whole thing was positively stupid and she was tired of this, tired of rumors and secrecy and things that weren't even her fault.

She walked down to the riverbank, her feet squishing in the wet sand. Noolu moss was around here somewhere, and she was glad to have the chance to do some real work outside of the house. Working for Nirisath always kept her mind off the more unfortunate things that were happening, made her forget, at least momentarily, about the dreadful rumors that she was the one who killed Starwing and destroyed half the city in that flood.

She found the noolu moss and sat down next to it, not wanting to go home just yet. Then she'd just be stuck in Nirisath's house for a long time still, wouldn't be allowed out or anything. She was too old for this! She was seventeen, and girls her age…well, back at home she'd be at school with her friends, learning how to be a better enchantress. Oh, she'd have rumors about her, of course…but she'd give everything she owned to have her rumored as kissing Pharas behind the school as opposed to being a murderer and a witch. It was easy back home, uncomplicated…times like this, she felt more homesick than ever. They'd never be able to bring her back, not without her constant communications. She'd seen more of this world than any of the magistrate's people…hell, in a few years, with her experience she could be a magistrate someday. She and Hylaea would have gone to school together, and then she'd join the other worlds project. Now? This wasn't home. It felt like it sometimes, when she was with Rilian…or Nirisath…but otherwise? Rumors at home weren't anywhere near as vicious as _this._

Well, she was tired of it. She stood up, gathering the noolu moss in her arms. If this place was to be her home, the people would have to get used to it. She wasn't going to take any rumors and she shouldn't let them keep her from living her life here the way she was supposed to. She was giving in, she was doing exactly what they wanted by hiding away from everything, practically a recluse. If she let rumors destroy her, what kind of life would that be? Living locked up in Nirisath's house for the rest of her known life? No, that wouldn't do. She was being stupid, letting them get to her like this. Forget this. Damn their rumors and all their lies. She pulled her hair our of the ponytail and shook it out, letting the blonde curls fall over her shoulders and deciding to cut her hair sometime this week.

She was going out today and nothing was going to stop her, not anything they said. And if they tried to hurt her, she'd fight back. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, but like hell she'd let people she didn't even know, and who didn't know her, run her life! She was going to go to the castle and see Rilian, as it had been over a week since she'd seen him last. And to hell with anyone who stood in her way.

"Your noolu moss," Sarasael said, walking purposefully back into Nirisath's house and dropping the moss on the table.

"Thank you," Nirisath gave a nod to her and then went back to work.

"I'm going out," Sarasael announced with an overabundance of youthful optimism.

"Excuse me?" Nirisath raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going out. I have to buy some more aloe, so I'm going to go do that right now. And maybe buy a bracelet or something." She decided not to tell Nirisath she was going to go visit Rilian, as Nirisath was probably going to oppose this idea enough as it was.

"What?" Nirisath put down her needle and stood up. "Miss Inari, you're lucky I let you out for this noolu moss today, I wasn't even going to do that. You are not going out in the main market, not with that Otter talking the way she is. That Otter's calling for the hair off your head, if not your entire head by now. It's too dangerous, forget it."

"Why not?" Sarasael demanded. "They're running my life with their stupid rumors. It's dumb, and I'm going to go out and show them that they don't own me and they can't make me do anything just because they have rumors. Everyone has rumors, and I don't care."

"Sarasael! It goes beyond rumors!" Nirisath said forcefully, throwing down the rest of the spool hard on the table. It clattered down on the wood and rolled to the floor, and Nirisath left it there. "You've been here but I've gone out, and it's too dangerous for you. The things they say! They want to throw you out of the city right now, and I wouldn't be surprised if some want to do away with you altogether. This is what I've heard, so don't you glare at me like that and act like I'm making it up."

"But why?" Sarasael threw off her shawl and flung it onto the couch. "I didn't do anything!"

"I know that, and we've been through this before and I don't care to be redundant. It doesn't matter what is the truth and what isn't right now, not when rumors and gossip is concerned. If you want to go out and act all brave and rash, then do it when it's safer. Give this a few weeks and then we can work on getting rid of this whole thing together. But now it's too dangerous."

"That's what they want!" Sarasael retorted. "They want me to stay here and fear for my life. I'm not going to let them do that. They'll have to get used to it, and too bad if they think I'm something I'm not. I know it and so do you and so does Rilian and that's what matters." She tossed her head marched towards the door.

"Inari!" Nirisath barked, and she froze. "Inari, do not open that door. I have to look out for you, that's my duty as your employer and as your teacher, and for that, you are not allowed to leave this house. Now come back here and put this noolu moss away." Nirisath's voice was cold, the ultimate authority to be obeyed.

But Sarasael was too furious at all of this to listen.

"You're not my mother," Sarasael said softly.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not my mother. Or my father, or any of my family. All my family are in my world, which I'm never going to get back here because I'm stuck in your stupid world for the rest of my life, and everyone thinks it's my fault and I'm not going to live here forever like this! You can't order me around, so I'm leaving right now and you can't do anything to stop me!" before Nirisath had time to react, Sarasael opened the door and walked out, slamming it so hard behind her that it rattled some of the pots on the shelves.

Nirisath sighed and sank down into a chair, picking up the spool of thread and putting it back on the table. Sarasael was right, she wasn't her mother, and here Nirisath was trying to be. All for good reason…the poor girl was so far from home with no way of returning, and it was the least Nirisath could do. The girl had such potential to be a great healer, but if she went out and was locked up by some angry Cair citizens, that wouldn't do at all. And who knows what people are capable of? Especially in such a city, where news and rumors spread faster than a cold during the dampness of springtime. Perhaps she should get the girl to another naiad, another healer that lived away from the city. There was Tiranath down near Aslan's How, she was a good healer and would be willing to take the girl if anything went wrong here. Nirisath knew Sarasael would hate the idea…she didn't like Cair at all but that Rilian, she did rather like him, and he liked her as well. Separating the two wouldn't be the best thing, but if it would keep Sarasael safe, Nirisath was prepared to do it.

But now? That girl had to do something as completely idiotic as go storming out into a city full of people who were not very happy with her at the moment, and there really wasn't a lot Nirisath could do.

No good could come of this, Nirisath knew. None.

Sarasael walked down the streets with her head down, furious that even Nirisath was trying to control her now. The whole bloody city was, like she couldn't take care of herself! She was seventeen and an enchantress, and not a bad one, either. If anything happened she could take care of it.

What did she need? Right, aloe. She touched her belt pocked that contained some of the money she earned. It was enough to buy aloe and maybe a new pair of earrings…oh, there was someone selling jewelry over there. She'd buy a pretty new pair for when she went to see Rilian.

She walked over to the stand and examined all the earrings, not touching anything. There was a nice pair with pearls…they were small but pretty, and she liked them.

"How much are those?" she asked the seller, a Shrew, pointing to the earrings.

"Not for sale," the Shrew replied.

"Why not? They're in the sales booth,"

"Not for you."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't sell to murderers and witches," the Shrew spat. "And this stand is closed." With that, he pulled the shutters closed. "Not for sale."

"Well fine, don't," Sarasael shouted back, not quite being able to think of a good comeback. "See if I care." Furious, she whirled around and almost ran through the streets, not caring which way she went. How dare they, she was not a murderer! Idiots, fools who listened to anything that was told to them!

She didn't need those earrings anyway.

Forget this, she'd buy the aloe later. Now she just wanted to see Rilian…he'd know what to do. He always seemed to.

She knew the way to the castle…all roads in Cair led there eventually. There were two guards at the entrance, Jaguars.

"Excuse me," She said with politeness, curtsying. "I'm a friend of the prince, and I wish to see him,"

The Jaguars looked at each other. "Do you have an appointment?" One of them asked.

"Well, no, but he knows who I am, so if you can tell him I'm here or something, I'm sure he won't mind."

"No appointment, we can't allow you into the castle."

Sarasael's patience was thin enough as it was, and this just made it worse. "Can't you just let me in for once? Listen, I didn't do anything and I just want to see the prince, okay?"

The Jaguars both bristled, the fur on their necks rising at her hostile tone.

"Come on, just this once," she pleaded. If pleading didn't work, she'd just use her power to get past them. She was tired of this!

"Sarasael?" she heard a voice behind her and whirled around. To her disbelief, she saw a familiar figure standing there…the tall Archenlander Mien, who she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Mien?" she echoed. He looked just as surprised as she did.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just came to see Rilian," she admitted.

Mien nodded and turned to the Jaguars. "That's okay, I know this girl. A bit shy and tends to stare at everything, but she's not going to do anything to you. Come on." Mien put a hand on her shoulder and led her through the gates, much to her relief.

"Oh thank you," she said breathlessly once they were through. "They weren't going to let me in and I'm just going to go crazy and I'm so tired of staying in Nirisath's house all day!" she finished.

"From what I hear," Mien's voice was light but carried a hint of darker thoughts. "You murdered an Owl, blew up a building, and destroyed half the city in a flash flood."

"Please tell me you don't believe that!" Sarasael said quickly, looking at him. "I didn't…well, I…the building was an accident and I didn't mean anything by it. The flood was just a flood, ask any of the naiads and they'll tell you. And Starwing was really old and everyone says it's hard to cure Owls of pneumonia, even Nirisath says she might not have been able to do it. Please don't listen to the rumors, I'm so sick of them." She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. It really was too long. Cutting it soon was imperative. "I didn't mean any of it, and they're walking around calling me a murderer and not letting me buy any earrings,"

"Well," Mien shook his head. "I've been away and just came back yesterday, but from what I know…well, I can't imagine you as a cold blooded murderer when you could barely get on a horse. So I'll say you've got an ally with me, I don't believe rumors anyway. Neither will Toire when I talk to him."

"Does he believe any of this?"

"A little," Mien admitted. "But he's like that, once I talk to him he won't be. He always listens to me and remembers you too. I'd ask how you've been doing, but this isn't the time for it, eh?"

She gave a small smile. She always liked Mien. "Not really,"

"Ah well. There'll be time to do that later. For now…you want Rilian's room, eh? That'd be down that way," Mien pointed. "I have business with the king, so I have to get to that as soon as possible or he won't be too happy with me. You take care of yourself, eh?"

"I'll do that,"

"There's a good girl." Mien gave a tip of his hat and walked down the other passage, and Sarasael leaned against the wall to catch her breath for a moment. Mien walked really fast and it was hard to keep up with him. She always liked him and Toire and Stalis, they were good people. It made her feel better to know that they didn't believe all those things people were saying. Then she ran her fingers through her hair again even though it was hopeless, and walked down the hall to where Mien told her Rilian's room was. She vaguely remember this place from the last time she was in the castle, even though that was a long time ago. She knocked at the door and waited.

"What?" she heard Rilian's voice from the other side. "Go away, I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"It's just me," she replied.

"What?"

"Yeah."

He opened the door, looking incredibly surprised. "Sara, what in Aslan's name are you doing here?" He looked down the hall, then took her arm and pulled her inside. "If anyone sees you here, I swear, they're going to…"

"I don't care," she jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Rilian, listen, I have to talk to you right now. I don't care if anyone sees me, you know what, too bad for them."

Rilian closed the door, and then closed the windows. "You came all the way down here? How'd they let you in?"

"I was lucky," she said. "Mien was coming to see your father and he let me come in. He's good, Mien. He doesn't believe all those rubbish things they are saying about me. And I hope you don't either."

"No, I don't, and if you think I do then I think we have a problem." Rilian said, turning around and crossing his arms.

"Okay, then,"

He exhaled sharply and locked the door. "Here, sit down." There was a large couch in the room, a big fancy one that was far nicer and more comfortable than anything in Nirisath's house. Obviously, it was the castle…things tended to be nicer around royalty. They always had the good fancy stuff, no matter what world they lived in. He sat down next to her, looking extremely serious. "Alright. You came all the way here, you go first."

She picked at the fringed edge of a pillow, now at a complete loss of words. Finally, she began.

"Listen, there's rumors all over the city that I'm a murderer and trying to kill off or enchant all the important people in Cair. I hear this through Nirisath, from what little she's actually told me. I've been stuck in her house for a week and a half, she refused to let me out because she's afraid your towns…city people…are going to do something to me, no idea what they would…I get the impression your people certainly aren't murderers…but Nirisath's going around telling me I can't leave and it's too dangerous, then when I finally do leave because this is stupid, I'm going and people are glaring at me everywhere and some Shrew won't sell me earrings because he won't sell earrings to murderers. I don't know what's going on, but I want to stop this. I want to get everyone to believe me that I didn't do any of this!"

"I know you didn't…"

"And I'm tired of people saying that, too," she continued, standing up. "I know you do and so does Nirisath and everyone but nothing's changing, and I refuse to stay locked up in Nirisath's for the rest of forever because people are lying about me." She paced the room in frustration. "I don't know what to do about this. They're not going to listen to me."

Rilian adjusted his position on the couch as she paced. "So what, you want _me _to try and do something?"

"I don't know!" She sat back down with a _flump,_ putting her head all the way back on the couch and closing her eyes. "I don't know what to do at this point. And I haven't seen you in a week and have no idea what's going on."

"Things have been busy, that's all," he said, sounding somewhat nervous. "And…I was going to come and see you this weekend, I had every intention on doing so. Believe me when I say this. I had no idea that you were going to actually come to the castle yourself. That was really…really bold."

"Well, I had to do something. I'm not letting rumors run my life."

"That's a good thing to live by." Rilian agreed. "But I have to tell you something…that Millie person came back here the other day, she's telling that murderer rubbish everywhere. A lot of the palace believes it. I've tried talking to them, but…for some reason, they don't listen to me. I don't know what Millie has been saying."

"Why not?"

"You think I listen? You think I want to go hear people walking around insulting you? And every time I try to tell them otherwise, they act all embarrassed or…or…I don't know, it's weird, I've never seen them act this way before. They act like anything I say doesn't matter, or…okay you'll think this is strange, but they're acting like it's not even me saying it. It's ridiculous and I have no idea what's going on."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm not lying. They haven't officially restricted me to the palace, but the way they've been talking, if I left at all I was going to be under close watch constantly, supervised like some child who's done something wrong. And I haven't either!" he finished. "So it looks like we're both in the same predicament, aren't we."

She nodded. "Blamed for something we didn't even do."

"I don't even know what it is I did."

"Got yourself involved with me, that's what." She tugged on her hair again, like she always did when she was nervous.

"And they're blaming me for it. Well, I'm certainly not going to stop." He interlaced his fingers with hers. "And they'll just have to live with that."

"We have to do something about this," Sarasael said. "I'm not going to sit here and let these rumors keep going."

"Well, neither am I. They're treating me like a child, like what I say doesn't matter. I'm going to be king someday and they're doing this? People will remember this forever. I'll be king and no one will remember my name…I'll just be Caspian's son, again. I'm tired of it too."

"So what are we going to do?" she looked at him, and the two of them at that moment felt far older than their seventeen years.

"Something to get their attention." He replied.

"Something that will tell them that we're not going to be ordered around by anyone, and we're not children or liars."

There was a pause as the two of them thought.

"Sara, what do you plan on doing…here in Narnia? Just, overall?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "I'm going to study with Nirisath until I'm good enough to be a healer myself, then I'm going to go somewhere and…I dunno, do healer things. Maybe I'll find another healer and work with them, or do stuff independently, I don't know. I'll be a healer."

"Ever think of staying here in Cair?"

"Either here, yes, or maybe I'd go back to the Shuddering Wood where I went to first. I liked it there and wouldn't mind seeing Rowan again…she'd like to know that I'm a healer."

"Right. So if you stay here…"

"What?"

"The Castle doesn't have an official healer. Anyone who's sick usually just goes to Nirisath, or my mother…she knows a little but. But nothing official."

"So what? You're asking me to be palace healer or something? When I actually know more of what I'm doing, which I will."

"Which you do. You'll be a good healer. But that's not drastic enough." He bit his lip and looked momentarily embarrassed. "We have to do something that will prove to them all that we can do our own thing, no matter what everyone else says. And we'll convince them that we're not liars or murderers or anything."

"Definitely."

Rilian took a deep breath. "Sarasael Inari, will you marry me?"

"Damn straight I will,"

"Really?"

"What?"

The two looked at each other for a moment.

"Oh," Sarasael shook her head and blinked a few times. "Yeah. That." She cleared her throat. "Anyway. That…well, that'll be rebellious enough," she grinned sheepishly. "But I will marry you regardless of being rebellious or anything. I don't care about that. I love you, and if I'm going to live the rest of my life in Narnia…I'd definitely want to spend it with you."

"There we have it, then," he looked extremely relieved, like he expected everything to go much worse than it really did. "Makes me feel better. Here I am, worrying about this all the time, how it's supposed to be done…usually it's under more romantic circumstances, I think."

"We can do that later," Sarasael said, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. "Worry about romantic times, I think we'll have plenty of time for that. Once everything's set straight."

"Of course. Ah, you're supposed to have a ring…I don't have anything. Sorry, I…really, I wasn't prepared to do this today, it just kind of happened."

"And I wasn't prepared to get proposed to when I was seventeen, but here I am." She replied with a small shrug, wondering in the back of her mind how scandalized Hylaea would be, and how her mother would probably sink into a chair and fan herself vigorously. Mordian was married, but he was much older than she was.

But life was different. This wasn't Tahalset, all the rules were different here and she'd have to adapt and live with them if she was going to really accept life here. It wouldn't be a bad thing…they would work together and destroy all these rumors and it would work out. Things usually did, Sarasael knew. Things had a funny way of working out, she always believed.

Unfortunately the time was late, and she had to get back to Nirisath…a prospect she was dreading, remembering how she furiously ran out on the naiad earlier that day. Well, she'd apologize and it would all be fine.

"Listen, Sara," Rilian said as they walked down the hall together, him seeing her off. "Come back to the palace in a few days, okay? I've got to plan what we'll do about this. I'm not going to tell my parents, but I'm going to get them in the main room in a few days. I'll meet you here at the entrance and we'll go together…and what I'm going to do then, I'll propose to you…well, again…right in front of them. They won't be able to do anything about that, and imagine how shocked they'll be. It'll be…rebellious."

"I think that's a great idea." She raised her chin high and gave a nod of assent. "They won't be able to tell us what to do anymore." Secretly the idea terrified her…she was thoroughly afraid of the king and queen. But if one was going to rebel and join with the love of their life, fear had to be conquered.

"You've got my promise on that," Rilian answered with a nod of agreement. He took her hand and kissed the top of it gallantly. "I'll see you in three days."

"Three days." She agreed, and they parted at the gates with the promise of that.

Sarasael walked home purposefully, ignoring the stares and suspicious whispers and occasional rude calls. That'd all be finished soon. She found her way back to Nirisath's house and opened the door, walking inside.

Nirisath was reading, and when Sarasael came inside, she put the book down. "Sit," Nirisath ordered, and despite Sarasael's recent determination and rebelliousness, she obeyed. After all, people obeyed Nirisath when she said something.

"What is it?" Sarasael asked. "And…" she was going to apologize, but Nirisath gave a curt shake of her head.

"Sarasael, you're my apprentice. I'm not your mother but I am your teacher, and I'm the closest thing you have to serious adult guidance in this world." Sarasael blinked at Nirisath's forwardness. "Listen to me. You're seventeen, you're still a child by my standards, especially when you act like one. Hear me? I've seen and experienced a lot more than you have, and I know how people act and the things they do. You disobey me all you like, but when it's at times like this…it's at a risk for your life, and I can't allow that. What you did today was inexcusable." Nirisath folded her hands in her lap. "For the next week, you're to stay here in my house. The back room needs cleaning, and the stable outside where the sick Horses stay needs a serious going over. I also want you to write out a complete inventory of our stock and change the bed linens in every room in this house." She finished.

Sarasael immediately leaped up to protest. "You can't do that!" she shouted. "I'm not a child."

"Yes, you are." Nirisath replied. "And until you start acting more mature, I'm going to treat you like one. Get right on those chores immediately."

"And if I don't?"

Nirisath leaned forward, the anger apparent in her eyes. "Then you can forget your apprenticeship," Nirisath replied coldly. "And I mean that. If you want to be my apprentice it means you have to listen to me and not go running off getting yourself killed for being young and stupid and not knowing enough about the world to know when to stop. Is that clear?"

Sarasael sat back down, folding her arms and looking away from the naiad.

"Answer me."

"Fine," Sarasael snapped.

"That's not an answer. 'Yes, Nirisath, that is clear.'"

"Yes, Nirisath, that is clear." Sarasael replied to the floor furiously. Her ears were flushed in embarrassment at being scolded…reprimanded…bloody well punished! Which hadn't happened to her since she was ten, and it was by her parents and not some naiad. Nirisath had no right to do this, none whatsoever. She was seventeen and…well, was going to be formally engaged in three days. She was too old for this sort of thing!

But nevertheless she obeyed Nirisath and went into the back room to start cleaning it out. Maybe because secretly in the back of her mind she needed that guidance, but she didn't dwell on that thought any longer than she had to.

Nirisath refused to let her out for a week. But Nirisath was busy…three days from now she'd find a way to sneak out and get to the palace anyway. Then she'd come back here with Rilian and they'd announce their engagement…all of Cair would know before long. Then Nirisath couldn't embarrass her like this again. See, it would work out.

Sarasael snatched a brush up from the wash room and started scrubbing the top of a desk in the back room vigorously, taking out all her anger and frustration on the oak wood of the desk. Three days and then everything would come together officially, and for that she'd be grateful. She was tired of this mess.

* * *

The plan in Rilian's eyes was foolproof. It was exactly the sort of thing he'd never imagine doing in his entire life, and here, he was doing it. He never imagined growing up that he would marry a girl from another world in an act of rebellion, to prove himself capable of independent thought and not a total extension of his parents. But life never turns out the way that one expects when they're younger.

"Rilian," his mother said later that day. "You missed the meeting with Pia from Lantern Waste," she said in a slightly scolding voice. "Pia is still here, so we've decided to hold the rest of the meeting off until tomorrow. But you knew it was today, why did you miss it?"

Oh, curse it, that _was _today. He had been so distracted that he thought the meeting was tomorrow and today he had free. Well, so much for that. It wasn't like he could talk to Pia…the Panther had decided to become a hermit years before and taken up a strange solitary residence in Lantern Waste and rarely talked to anybody. Rilian was next in line for the throne, but she had no intention of talking to him until he was actually king.

"I was busy," Rilian answered. "I had other things to attend to."

"Such as?"

Rilian hesitated. He wasn't going to tell his mother. He couldn't. There was absolutely no way he could tell her anything that took place today, it would completely ruin the entire plan.

"Just a few things," he said with an uncomfortable shrug. While he knew it was the right thing to do, he felt terrible about lying to his mother all the same. She was the most honest person he knew. "I had to look at something in the library about…" he cast his mind around, seeking to find something that he had been studying lately that would be believable. "Calormene traditions," he finished. He remembered his father talking about Calormen the other day and figured it would work.

It didn't. His mother's brows drew together and she took on a distinctly confused expression. "Whatever for?" she asked. "You haven't been to Calormen and we're not having anyone from there visit this castle at all."

"Well, just for diplomacy's sake," he answered. "It's always good to know about other cultures in case we do have dealings with them in the future."

"And it was so very occupying that you forgot the meeting with Pia?"

She didn't believe it. He could tell by the look in her eyes. "It was interesting," he said. "Interesting to read how different they are from us and how they live their lives. Also makes one very glad that they're not Calormene," he added with a scowl. He still had an intense dislike of those southern idiots who didn't believe in Aslan and prayed to the idol of Tash all day long. Who in their right mind would choose Tash over Aslan? Aslan was not a tame lion, yes, but he was good. Tash was…

"I see." The queen smoothed a wrinkle in her dress. "So instead of meeting with Pia as was scheduled, you went into the library and spent the entire afternoon reading about Calormen."

"Yes…" well, when she said it that way, of course it sounded positively absurd. "Yes I did, and I learned an awful lot. I'll apologize to Pia right now if you want me to."

"That won't be necessary," the queen held up a hand.

"Why not? I'm sorry I missed the meeting."

"Because we looked in the library this afternoon and you weren't there." She said.

Rilian froze. "Well, I might have gone out for something."

"Really. All afternoon? There were several people in the library, reliable witnesses that they didn't see you there."

"Well…I took the books out with me." This was just getting worse and worse. Of course, he should know better than to lie to his mother. Mothers always knew when their children are lying. "It's nothing, mother. I'll apologize to Pia for missing her and I'll see her tomorrow. I'm sorry I forgot. I was just really preoccupied. Please forgive me."

The queen didn't move. "Rilian, it is not the missing of the meeting that bothers me. That is perfectly normal for someone your age. What is bothering me is that you are lying to me." Her face turned very serious as she looked at him. "You have always been an honest person, and you know that lying is one of the many things on the path to evil. I don't want you to be a liar."

"I'm not, mother, I just…"

"You just lied to me." She shook her head. "I never expected that of you."

Rilian knew that everyone lied, that it was impossible not to. Children lied to their parents all the time, countries to each other, spouses to one another…it was part of life, and he knew that beyond all certainty. But at the same time, the way his mother said it and the way she was looking at him made him feel deeply ashamed, even though he knew he did nothing wrong. He was just acting like anyone else would have in his position.

He poked at the couch he was sitting on. What was he going to say? He couldn't tell her the truth. He owed Sarasael that, and they had this whole plan and everything.

"Well, I was just busy, okay? That's not a lie." He said finally. And it wasn't, she couldn't do anything about that.

"Busy with what?"

"That's none of your business," he said, and immediately was shocked at the fact that he said it. The queen was, too. Oh, Aslan forgive me, Rilian thought. He had just been extremely rude to his mother, something he hadn't done since…oh, since he was small and would always be punished and grounded for it and not allowed outside the castle. But he was older, he was seventeen and training to be king, and kings just didn't _do _things like this! Oh, what was wrong with him?

"It is my business," the queen said, pointedly not getting angry. "Because I am your mother, and you are still my son and therefore it is my business to know what you do that keeps you so occupied that you miss a very important meeting."

"Well I'm sorry that I can't tell you." Rilian said, not even believing the words coming out of his mouth. "It's my business, and I'm sorry I missed the meeting. I'll apologize and do whatever you want me to do, but I don't answer completely to you. I'm not a child anymore, mother, and I'm capable of handling my own affairs."

The queen blinked in shock. Rilian was too…he could scarcely comprehend the fact that he actually just said that. It was…well, the most rebellious and independent thing he had ever done. It felt oddly liberating, at the same time absolutely dreadful…he loved his parents and they had always been good to him, and he felt incredibly guilty to be saying and acting this way for them.

But it had to be done sometime, right? Or else they'd never take him seriously.

The queen rose and shook her head. "I am ashamed of you, my son," she said quietly. "That you'd do such a thing as lie to us and speak so rudely to me. I thought we had raised you better than that. I am expecting you to show up tonight at dinner anyway." And without any further comment, the queen left.

Rilian immediately got up to follow her, but the way she closed the door behind her was enough to tell him not to. Instead he only sat back down, and put his face on the pillow and didn't know what else to do. He wasn't…what, he was trying to be independent and all that happened was his mother walked out now, calling him rude and…ashamed! He shamed them with his words. That hurt more than anything anyone had told him of late. His actions were an object of shame to the rulers of Narnia. And he was going to be king someday, a horrible king…

Rilian dressed for dinner as if through a dream, and said absolutely nothing through the entire course of the meal. Caspian and Estelle acted like nothing was wrong, but of course that was a face they put upon so no one else would know something actually was wrong. When dinner was over and the table cleared, Caspian finally spoke.

"Good night, Rilian," was all that he said. "And tomorrow you will make a formal apology to Pia."

And they both left, leaving Rilian sitting at the cleared table, feeling beyond lost. Now his parents weren't speaking to him…not that much, at least. This wasn't part of the plan. He hadn't meant for it to happen, he was just so angry that they were all intruding on his business that he just said whatever came to mind, that's what Sarasael always said to do, that's what she did. Yet it seemed to work better when she did it. Now this…Rilian couldn't stand his parents being angry with him. They'd been mad in the past, but not like this. The way they looked all through dinner…and it was his fault. He brought shame to Narnia.

It was a restless night, and he barely got any sleep. The next day he made his best apology to Pia, even though Pia wouldn't speak to him because he wasn't king yet. Pia barely listened, and left with her tail raised showing that she was clearly insulted by being ignored at one meeting and now spoken to like some common creature. Pia was much prouder than that, much too proud, really.

Both the king and queen barely spoke to him the rest of the day. He didn't know what to do…every time he tried to approach them, they only said something curt and walked away. He tried asking some of the advisors and other members of the palace, but none of them would speak to him. At least not seriously…they'd only look at him sadly and mutter something about such an unfortunate enchantment before walking off. Rilian had no idea what they were talking about…what enchantment? He was perfectly in his right mind…or as right a mind as someone could be whose parents thought he had shamed them and weren't talking to him very much anymore. And soon they'd disown him and he'd be on his own, and people would say, oh look there goes the former prince of Narnia. Terrible what happened to him, brought shame on the entire family for being dreadfully rude and lying. Not a good thing for princes to do, lie.

Two days it was now. At least he'd have Sarasael here in two days, he needed her now more than ever. He was going to write to her, but they were monitoring all communications he had outside of the castle. Short of sneaking out in the dead of night (how good would _that _look), there was nothing he could do. He'd have to only wait those two days…

He was surprised that night to see his mother come in.

"I thought you weren't talking to me." He said, not meeting her eyes.

Estelle didn't say anything to that. "Actually, your father and I mean to speak with you right now. He's waiting in the main room, if you'd care to come with me."

Rilian almost leaped up immediately. They were talking to him again! Then he could explain everything…well, not _everything, _but he could apologize and tell them he didn't mean to shame anyone. He followed his mother through the halls until they reached the throne room where Caspian was seated. He nodded at his son, and they all sat down.

"Rilian," Caspian said. "Listen. I need to speak with you."

Rilian nodded, relieved that they were actually going to talk now.

"First of all, I want you to apologize to your mother for speaking to her that way. She did nothing to deserve it, and it is not right for you, as crown prince, to be talking back to us like that."

"Of course." Rilian turned to the queen. "I'm sorry, mother, I really am. I didn't mean to yell at you again and I promise I will never act in such a manner again."

"Apology accepted." Estelle said, nodding.

"Now." Caspian continued. "I also want you to tell the truth. We know that you lied to us that day, and that is simply unacceptable. You're going to be king someday, and Narnia can't afford a king who isn't honest. You know that. We've raised you to be honest, and there's no reason why you would lie to us now. Tell us what you were doing that day you missed the meeting with Pia."

Rilian shifted in his chair. Damn, no, he couldn't say anything! It would ruin their plans…she'd hate that, after all they had discussed together. But…but the way his father was looking at him, he couldn't bear to disappoint him. There was rebellion, and then there was family…and family won out. Rilian had known his family forever and always wanted to do the best he could to prove he could do it, he could be a good king.

"I…was just, you know, doing a few things." He stammered.

Neither of them said anything. Lie, curse it all! Rilian thought to himself. Just make something else up, there's got to be some kind of excuse he could come up with that would make sense.

"I was going…no, I asked Sarasael to marry me," he said in a hurry, then looked away after he said it. Well, there went that. There went absolutely all their plans, the secret rebellion and everything, now that his parents knew. Now they were going to yell at him and send him to his room or doing something equally ridiculous, and of course they were going to say no. They hated Sarasael, it was obvious…he thought knew _that _beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When he finally looked back at them, he was surprised to find they weren't looking at him with absolute fury. Instead, Estelle was shaking her head, and Caspian was looking extremely surprised.

"Well." He said. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Well I am." Rilian said, the lack of anger emboldening him. "I love Sara and I'm going to marry her, and you can't do anything about it."

Caspian stood up, still nothing else registering on his face. "Well." He said again, turning to Estelle. He held out his hand to her. "That was the last thing I'd imagine you to say, Rilian, and I need to discuss this with your mother."

Estelle nodded. "You may go," she said to him, and he could tell by her voice that she was surprised. The two of them left quickly, and Rilian put his head in his hands.

Now Sara was going to be so mad at him. He had broken the promise he made to her, and now this secret engagement wouldn't be secret anymore. Once his parents knew, they'd probably tell all of Narnia and that would be horrible because for some stupid reason, all of Narnia didn't like Sara. Or at least a lot of people in Cair did, but they were all idiots. Now he had ruined the plan. What was going to happen now? Before he was so sure, now…

Now what, was all he could think.

That night, Rilian was called back to Caspian again. He had spent the entire day in his room, speaking to no one, and didn't know what to make of anything right now. He just knew his parents were going to do something dreadful and it wouldn't be good for him or Sara. It wouldn't work out now that he had gone ahead and ruined it all. Well, he still had one day, right? She wasn't coming yet. Maybe he could try to fix it. He decided that's what he would do tonight…do his best to repair the damage his stupidity had caused.

When he arrived in the room, only Caspian was there. He didn't look angry, only sad and resigned. Rilian sat down and was immediately planning on what he was going to say…he'd defend Sara in whatever way possible until his parents finally agreed to let him go through with this. He opened his mouth to begin, but Caspian shook his head.

"My son, there is so much to say now I don't know where to begin." He sighed. "So I'm going to have to start with the part you're not going to like, I'm afraid. It's not going to be easy but nothing is ever easy, not even these days. And most of this that happened is probably my fault, too." He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, let me start. And I don't want you to interrupt me just yet,"

"Yes, father,"

"Very well. I have to say…and believe me, this isn't easy…but you can't marry Sarasael."

Rilian was up on his feet the moment Caspian finished saying that. "I knew you were going to say that, and I'm going to marry her anyway, whether you like it or not!" he shouted.

"You have to let me finish," Caspian said patiently.

"Fine! But I'm going to do it anyway!"

"Rilian, I want you to take a good look at Narnia."

"What about it?" It sounded so out of place that Rilian had to stop and listen.

"This…" he swept his arm around, indicating the castle. "This is your country. You are the crown prince, and someday when I die you will take over as king. That is a big responsibility, and you know it. You've known this all your life, and your mother and I have prepared you for it. Every decision in your life you're not only making for yourself, but you're making it for all of Narnia, too. That includes who you marry and who will become queen with you.

"Sarasael…I have nothing against the girl, Rilian, honestly I don't. She's a nice girl and with instruction from Nirisath, she'll make a talented healer someday. She's good at that and knows what she's doing. But I'm sorry to say, she's not…she wouldn't make a very good queen. And I'm not saying that in a bad way…there are many girls out there who are wonderful but who wouldn't be able to run a kingdom. And Narnia needs rulers who can do that, or else…look what happened with Miraz. We don't want that again, not when the world is at peace. We can't afford to have a queen who wouldn't be capable of being such."

"What, you're saying she's a bad ruler?" Rilian snapped. "She's not even out of school yet in her world. Is it because she's not royalty?"

"No." Caspian shook his head. "It has nothing to do with royalty or not. If you found a peasant living in Beruna who would make a good queen and you wanted to marry her, your mother and I would be fine with that. But the point being, Sarasael would make a great healer but not a great queen. She's still young and doesn't know the way the world works. She wouldn't be able to help manage an entire country if she can't even keep her head in a crisis." Caspian was referring to the Starwing incident, where she had collapsed, positively terrified of a dead Owl. "As a queen, and as a healer too, one had to accept that death was part of life and not be afraid of it. She has to be able to keep a level head no matter what. You see what your mother does every day…do you think she could do it?"

"She can learn!" Rilian almost shouted. "It's possible. She can stay here and I'll teach her how to be a good ruler and you can help me or something. There's always a way if you look for one."

"But would she want to do that? She seems to really like being a healer and wants to keep learning until she can be a master. Would she want to be queen, to be living in this palace and have to handle things like taxes and birth registration and trying to settle arguments between two old Elephants, each who insists that this particular piece of land belongs solely to them?"

Rilian hesitated. He couldn't imagine Sarasael doing any of that…she could be a healer and definitely knew what she was doing there. But the idea of her doing taxes…well, he could envision her taking one look at the reports, making a face, and muttering something about more dreadful math calculations and giving it to someone else. And…he realized…you can't do that if you're ruling a country. Father always said, you have to do it yourself. It would make you more aware of your kingdom and the people to respect you. A king with fifteen advisors who did all the work were more than likely to be overthrown.

But she could learn. Math wasn't that hard and neither were taxes.

"I know about taxes," Rilian said stubbornly. "I can teach her. And she could still do her healing here in the palace. We don't have an official healer, everyone just goes to Nirisath. If she was here, that'd be great for the palace to have someone who knows healing right here in case of emergencies." He nodded. Of course that would work.

"Rilian, you're still not thinking. I'm so sorry I have to tell it to you like this. She's from another world…and what's going to happen if one day she finds a way to go back to her world? She'd go back there without hesitation. That's where her family is, and I know she's been here for awhile…I'm sure she misses them."

Rilian looked away. He knew she did, more than anything in the world. She was entirely separated from her friends and family and all she ever knew with no way of ever getting back. If she was offered that chance, he knew she would take it.

"And what would happen to Narnia then? You can't go back with her, as much as you may want to see her world. And then Narnia would be without a queen…or have a temporary queen, only here sometimes and then vanishing for long periods of time."

And time moved differently in her world, he thought. It went faster…she would age faster than he would.

"But that's only if she finds a way back." Rilian continued. "That's not guaranteed. And I can teach her how to be queen, she can learn that. It's just a new thing but she's really good at learning new things."

"Rilian, you're the crown prince. If she marries you, before she becomes queen she has to be crown princess. She's going to have to do everything that you currently do. I'm sorry, but it's just not possible. It's not going to work out."

"No!" Rilian slammed his hand down on the table. "I'll figure out a way, I'll make it work! She can be queen and I'll help her do whatever she needs to do. I'll just take the time to do this, I'll find it."

"This is part of what I'm talking about!" Caspian said. "You never used to be like this. Now I see you…Rilian, you've become terribly irresponsible of late. Disobeying my orders, lying to your mother and I, missing meetings and skipping over things just to be with her…it's sweet, but that's not the way a prince is supposed to behave. You can't afford to be this hasty when you're king, it won't be good for the country. You have to put the country first…that's just the way it is with us. Please try and understand that."

"Understand! You're asking me to understand? I love her, and you're telling me that she's a lousy queen and making me all irresponsible and a bad prince too, and that I'm being selfish and…"

"I'm not saying that! Rilian, you're not listening to me. You're going to be king, and that entails putting your country before everything else in your life, even the person that you may love."

"You never did that." Rilian raised his chin defiantly. "You loved mother."

"Yes, but I knew that above all else, she would make a good queen of Narnia. And that was what was most important."

"Then what's wrong with Sara? Do you believe those stupid rumors that she's an evil enchantress and…"

"I don't believe those at all." Caspian said sharply. "And neither does your mother. We've heard all that Otter Millie had to say…and that, unfortunately, gave us a view on how the people feel. I know not all magic users are evil, but it's going to take a lot more than my words to convince them of that." He pointed out the window. "And we can't afford to have a queen that the people can't trust."

"Then they'll learn," Rilian snapped. "They'll learn that not all magic users are evil, and that she can rule just as well as anyone else. It's people who are evil, not magic."

"You and I both know that. But it's not going to change overnight for the rest of the world. There's a time and a place for revolutions, and that's not now. Narnia finally has peace, after decades of oppression under Miraz. I want to keep it that way. I love this world, and I know that you do too. And this is why I can't allow you to marry Sarasael." And though Rilian didn't notice, Caspian looked terribly sad right then. He wanted the best for his son and the best for his country, and sometimes that involved people getting hurt. "Someday you'll understand why I have to do this. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well you are!" Rilian shouted, standing up so hard that the chair fell over. "I love Sara and here you are saying that I can't marry the person that I love, and I can never see her again because she's an evil witch…"

"I never said that! I do not think she is evil, nor a witch. And I did not say you could never see her again. She's a good healer and will turn out to be a perfectly respectable one, so of course she'll have our alliances, as does every healer. You can be friends with her and I will have nothing against that. All I'm saying is that you cannot marry her."

"I hear you." He turned away. "Fine." And with that, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Caspian put his face in his hands, knowing better than to follow his angry son out. It was one of the worst things he ever had to do…he wanted nothing more than for Rilian to be happy. But like a good king, he put his country first, even before that of his own family. That was part of the sacrifices a king had to make, no matter how much it may hurt to do so. And this was one of the worst, seeing his son walk off so furiously. Caspian looked outside at the country before him, at Cair that was still awake even at night.

"That didn't go so well, did it," he heard Estelle say sympathetically behind him.

"No," Caspian said tiredly. "Not at all. I didn't know what else to say, Estelle. I had to tell him the truth, otherwise…"

"I know, I know." She rested her hands on his shoulders. "You're always thinking of Narnia first, and it's understandable. He has to know that, too. Listen, before anything happens, I'll find Sarasael and explain all this to her too, alright? I don't want her to get the wrong impression."

"Neither do I. She's a fair healer."

"Who knows, someday she'll have her own healing business too. So I'll go do that, you've done enough here."

"I just hope someday he understands, and forgives me for what I had to do." He paused. "And I just…I just hope I've done the right thing, for Narnia, and for my son."


	14. Chapter 14

((If memory serves, this was the first chapter I wrote after graduating high school. Woot))

Sarasael woke up really early in the morning on that third day. Nirisath was still sleeping, which gave Sarasael plenty of time to prepare. She was getting engaged today!

She was incredibly excited for this. She chose exactly the right dress, a pretty red one with silver trim. It was the most expensive thing she owned and she figured it would be right for this occasion. She spent the entire morning attempting to untangle her curly hair, and when she got most of it lying flat, tied it back with a silver ribbon to match the dress. Nirisath was still sleeping by the time she was done. She grinned and twirled around in the mirror, feeling at the same time six years old and far older than seventeen.

Today, like they had planned. Today she was going to be engaged to the person she loved more than anything else in this world, and then everything would work out fine. Then the people would stop calling her a murderer and a witch, and…and she'd have a home. A real home, because anywhere that Rilian was felt like home. She'd be spending the rest of her life with him and it would be marvelous, more than she could have ever asked.

Nirisath woke up just as Sarasael was preparing to leave. "Don't you look nice today," Nirisath said, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever the occasion?"

"Nothing much," Sarasael replied, reaching up to pull on a curl but finding them all tied back. "Just, you know, it's a good day." A brilliant and wonderful day that would be greater than all the other days here.

"And what might…" but before Nirisath could finish there was a frantic tapping on the window. Nirisath opened it and a Kestrel fluttered in, chattering frantically to her. His mother had gotten into a nasty fight with a wild golden eagle, and she was all cut up and her wing was broken. The poor Kestrel was so frantic that Nirisath nodded and told him to wait outside.

"You'll just have to tell me later." Nirisath said breathlessly as she gathered her things together and threw them into a bag. "I've got this urgent call now, poor thing. Be back as soon as possible, don't get into any trouble now." Nirisath left quickly and Sarasael could hear her talking to the Kestrel outside.

See, already things were going well. Now she wouldn't have to explain this whole thing to Nirisath until after it happened. No questions asked, this was working out well. She put the finishing touches on her hair and clasped a sparkly ruby necklace around her neck, one that Rilian had gotten her for her birthday. She took a rare moment to admire herself in a mirror…for once, she actually looked vaguely like a queen, instead of an exhausted healer's apprentice with dirt all over her hands from gathering herbs and hair all messed up from grabbing an hour of sleep on the couch while trying to take care of everyone.

When all that was done, she set out to the castle. A few people called rude things after her along the way, but she completely ignored them. It didn't matter…this would only last a little while longer, and soon they'd be able to fight anything that stood in their way.

She reached the castle and bowed…no, curtsied, because that's what queens did, they curtsied (at least she thought they did) at the two Jaguars guarding the entrance.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "I'm expected at the castle."

"Do you have an appointment?" asked one of them coolly.

"Yes, I do."

"With?"

"The prince. He wishes to see me today."

"Ought we to verify that?" whispered the other.

"We should,"

The first turned around and trotted down the path to the castle and then inside. He came out a minute later, and nodded at Sarasael.

"You actually are on the list," the Jaguar said. "So go ahead and go in."

"Thank you." She curtsied again, more gracefully this time. This curtsying thing was kind of awkward and they never did it at home, but this wasn't home. One would have to get used to life like this, if she was going to be queen and everything.

Though secretly, the idea terrified her. She didn't know the first thing about being queen except that usually royalty did it. She'd have all these people looking up to her and expecting her to make good decisions, and she'd have to…well, whatever else queens did. But there was time for that, right? She'd have Rilian and it would always be better when he was there with her. He'd know what to do and would show her. He'd be patient and supportive and she knew she could somehow learn to do this queen thing if she had him by her side. She felt she'd be able to do just about anything if he was there with her.

She walked through the hallways. They were just starting to be familiar to her and she'd have to get used to them now. Would she be living here now, or still staying with Nirisath? Maybe there was one of those things like at home where two people weren't allowed to live together until they were married. Or maybe they did it a different way here? Well, either way it would be fine. It really didn't matter to her because they'd be together in the end.

She stood in front of Rilian's door, both nervous and excited at the same time. She wasn't at all prepared for this, not without telling her mother and her friends…but this was her life now. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Why was she so nervous? This was preposterous. She raised her chin and stood straight and tall, like queens were supposed to be. She ran a hand over her hair and smoothed her dress down, not realizing in the back of her mind that she was stalling. Well, there was no turning back now. She'd have to go through with this.

She reached up and knocked several times on the door. Then she waited. The door didn't open immediately…in fact, it didn't open for several moments and she was starting to feel slightly worried and kind of awkward, standing in the middle of the hallway dressed all fancy like. She waited still, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. Maybe he was late? Maybe he was still getting ready. After all, engagement was a big deal and he was probably just as nervous as she was. Especially being the prince and all, and the fact that he had to do this in front of his parents, the great king and queen of this world. Surely it wasn't the sort of thing one jumped to immediately, regardless of plans.

Yes, that's why he was taking his time. Just getting ready, that's all. It wouldn't be a problem.

But still nothing. Puzzled, she knocked again. Surely he couldn't have forgotten? Maybe he was in a meeting?

The door finally opened, and she exhaled in relief to see Rilian there. Except he wasn't dressed up at all, and…wasn't even looking at her. He was looking off slightly past her, then down at the floor, then he said,

"Um. I think you should come inside."

She came in and closed the door, and before she could say anything more, Rilian pulled her towards him and kissed her passionately. She threw her arms around him, having missed him these past few days, and was so excited and nervous this day. She returned his kiss, twining her fingers into his long hair that she liked so much, it was so royal, they always had the hair like this.

But as quickly as he started, he pulled away, holding her out at arm's length. She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but he put a finger on her lips.

"Sara, before I say anything I want to say that I love you, and I always will, and I think you're the most beautiful person in the world and someday you're going to be a great healer. I also wish there was something I could do about your world, if it was up to me I'd find you a way home right now. And it's not my fault, what I'm about to say."

She didn't say anything, only looked questioningly at him.

"Sara…I…" he sighed and looked away for a moment. He wanted to say, to the dark underworld with whatever my parents say, you're staying with me here forever. He wanted to say, I love you more than anyone else I've known in the entire world, and I don't care if they think you'd be a poor queen, you'll be fine with me. I'll show you everything you need to know, and I know you may be terrified, but with me you'll be able to do it. You'll be able to do anything, we both can, together.

He wanted to promise her the world and throw aside the cares and responsibilities of a prince and take her into his arms and say everything he wanted to, ignoring what his parents wanted or what Narnia wanted. And he wanted to apologize for even considering what they said, and for telling them what the two of them had planned together. But all he said was, "Sara, we can't be together anymore."

What?

"What? That's…I could have sworn that you just said…"

"I did say it. And we can't. I'm so sorry, I never wanted that, it's just that I…my father found out and he forbids it. He said we can't ever see each other again, and I tried to talk to him, I really did, but you know he never listens. But he said we can't. I don't know. He probably wants me to marry a queen or something,"

Sarasael stopped, her eyebrows coming together. "Wait, but I thought you said…"

"I know what I said! And if I had my way, you know, we'd be together forever, but…"

"You said this was going to be a rebellion type thing," she said quickly. "I mean, this is what you told me. After all this, you know, that you weren't going to…tell you…tell them that we were going to do this anyway." She giggled and then bit her lip hard to stop. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to.

"I know, and you have to listen…" he took her hands, and logic told her to pull away but she couldn't. "They're my parents, and when they say something I have to listen to them, even though I may not want to."

"But you're the prince! They have to give you what you want and let you make your own decisions! Please don't tell me you're serious. Tell me you're just, what, doing one of those things where you'll laugh at me and say to forget it, it was a stupid joke or something."

He couldn't mean it. The idea was too ridiculous. He loved her and told her that all the time, he promised they'd be married, regardless of what anyone said. They were going to face the world, the entire city that was against her, and prove to them how stupid they were. She'd be with him and have a home at last. He promised and she believed him, he always kept his promises…

"This is what my parents said and I have to listen to them. I know we were going to do this whole rebellion thing, but my father is king so you know, if he doesn't have authority who does? Please, you have to believe me, this wasn't my idea at all. If I had my way…"

"No, no, I'm just not hearing this," she stammered, shaking her head. "It's just not possible. Rilian, you have to tell me it's a joke." She said desperately, her mind racing in panic.

"I'm sorry. I'm not." He turned away from her, looking at the floor.

"Well, then…what do you want me to do?" her voice rose in pitch. "I mean, I can't just go home and stay home and lock myself up with Nirisath forever. Rilian, you promised me this. I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't know Narnia that well."

"And…I know you don't, I'm trying to say, it's just my parents. They told me this, I can't disobey them! The last time I tried, they didn't talk to me for a few days and it was driving me absolutely crazy. I still need them and they're smart and they probably know or something like that, and Sara, you have no idea how sorry I am, and I love you so much and don't want to do this at all."

"So what? What do you want? Should I just, just, go home or something?" she stammered.

"I think so." He still wasn't looking at her. He just sat down on his chair, staring at the floor. "I think that'd be best."

"I can't just leave," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"But I think you have to. I'm sorry." Now he was looking the other way, staring intently at his dresser. "I'll…you'll be fine with Nirisath, I know you'll make a good healer and she's smart and can teach you. I really wish we could stay together, but, we just can't. I'm sorry. I love you, Sara, just don't forget that."

"So I should go?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just, yeah." He didn't know what to say either.

"Oh. Well. Okay. I'll just, you know, go through the front again and…stuff."

"Yeah."

She still stood there, not wanting to move at all. Any second now, he was going to turn around and say something else. He'd tell her to stay and do something funny and sweet and just act the same way he always did. Any second now.

But she stood there for a full minute and he didn't move at all. No, this just wasn't happening. They were going to be engaged today.

"Please, just go,"

He said please.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll, do that." She felt dizzy and numb and confused.

He said please, and so she somehow found her way out of the castle, ignoring anyone who was there, ignoring the Jaguars out front, ignoring everyone who tried to stop her or talk to her. She just had to get to Nirisath's first, and once she did that, she'd…

A large column of smoke erupted into the sky. There were shouts all around her and she was jarred as people called out in alarm or ran towards it. Some house had caught fire, which Sarasael thought was kind of odd being that everyone lived so close to a river. Nevertheless, she ran towards Nirisath's as fast as she could, and as she turned the corner, realized with sudden terror that it was Nirisath's house that was on fire.

The heat struck her in the face and she gasped and nearly passed out as it seared her lungs and made her double over. The entire house was aflame, crackling and roaring as the flames reached into the back of the house. For a second, Sarasael didn't even move...she could only stand at the gates, trying to catch her breath, and stare in mute horror as the fire consumed the only other place she had ever dared to call home.

But…oh, gods, what if Nirisath was still in there?

"Nirisath!" Sarasael cried, and not even thinking she picked up her skirts and ran towards the burning house. No…no, wait, she couldn't just run into a burning house, that was stupid. But she was an enchantress and could give herself at least momentary immunity to fire. She reached frantically for her powders and found the one she was looking for, throwing it over herself and gasping out the proper words. There was a brief flash of even more intense heat as the spell took affect, and then she found she could see clearer and breathe, and the flames were only pleasantly warm.

She staggered inside, looking around frantically. The flames had consumed nearly everything…the couch was nothing but ash, all the other chairs were gone, and smoke filled the room so she couldn't see. "Nirisath!" she shouted again, but there was no response. Wincing, she pulled out a knife from her belt, just a small one used for chopping thick flower stems, and used it to cut off a piece of her dress. She pulled it over her mouth as an attempt to protect from the smoke. The spell only kept the heat and flames off her but did nothing for the rest. And so many things were smoking; the whole room filled with haze. It was unreal.

There was no sign of Nirisath in this room. She ran through the now empty doorways into the workshop where everything was destroyed, all Nirisath's stores were gone. Sarasael ran into her room and it was the same there. No sign of Nirisath anywhere…gods, she couldn't be dead. Naiads didn't just die, they were magical creatures born of the water. A little bit of fire surely couldn't just make them…vanish.

She heard shouting from outside, so she found her way back outside, where she collapsed onto the floor, coughing so hard her whole body shook.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "You have to get out of here, child!" she heard Nirisath whisper urgently. Sarasael blinked the smoke out of her eyes and peered up at the naiad's face Nirisath was looking oddly concerned and intense, an expression she wasn't used to seeing.

"You're alive," Sarasael said. "I thought you were burned, if that could happen, if…"

"Stop talking!" Nirisath ordered, helping Sarasael to her feet. "I don't know where you were or what's going on, I thought you were the one who had died." The angry shouting increased. "You have to get out of here now. They thought you were here."

"Who?" Sarasael brushed the sooty hair out of her face.

"Those idiots…I'm going to truss up every last one of them and leave them for the northern ghouls if it's the last thing I do," Nirisath growled, and it was the first time Sarasael ever heard her so angry. Nirisath was always annoyed, but hardly ever genuinely furious. "Those idiots who…oh, Aslan, just get out of here! They're looking for you, girl, don't you understand?"

Sarasael felt a wash of fear over her. Those people. Those people who had always glared at her in the street, that Otter who was spreading lies over the entire city about her…the ones Nirisath had cautioned her about. She'd seen them and they'd spoken to her before angrily. But she never thought they would do something like this. Nirisath was innocent. It wasn't Nirisath's fault that everyone thought Sarasael was a witch.

"That's not fair!" Sarasael cried, knowing how childish she sounded. "I didn't do anything! Neither did you!"

"I know, but now isn't the time to debate these things! I'll take care of it, you have to get out of here now before they hurt you."

"Helping your apprentice, healer?" a taunting voice called. Sarasael looked and saw Millie standing there with several of her people around her, looking oddly intimidating despite the fact that she was only around three feet tall. "Unless you're in on it too? We've had evil naiads in the past."

Nirisath straightened and placed a hand on Sarasael's shoulder, moving her slightly behind her. "Speak of me what you want," she said coldly. "It only shows your ignorance and stupidity. And naturally I help my apprentices, as they are my future and will succeed me when I am too old to heal any of you." She gave Sarasael a push, but Sarasael was rooted to the ground in fear and couldn't think. "I'm sure you're ever so wise in doing this, at least you think," Nirisath continued. "Burning down the houses of innocents is only the first step. What's next? Shall you form your own secret police and come for us in the night?"

"How dare you compare us to that!" Millie snapped, equally angry. "We're protecting Narnia! This is for everyone's good, so we can save the world from the tyranny we had years ago!"

"So instead you bring the tyranny here yourself. I'm ashamed, Millie, that you would even think of this." This time, Nirisath gave Sarasael an even more forceful push. "You have to get out of here now, child, or that will be the end of you. I'll hold them off, they won't hurt me. Go! Now!"

The push imbalanced her and she staggered off, nearly falling down to the floor again. The urgency in Nirisath's voice was evident and managed to reach Sarasael's foggy, confused brain, and she ran as fast as she could behind the house where the horses were. Sarasael didn't know how to ride a horse, and the one still left was tied tight to the post, its eyes rolling madly with terror from the fire. She couldn't ride a regular horse, let alone one this terrified that was going to crush her at any second. Yarrin, what am I to do, I can't do this, she thought almost hysterically. The ropes were hard and coarse and tied so tightly that she couldn't get a hold of it properly. Finally she took out her knife and began frantically sawing through them until they came free. The horse bucked and reared and she screamed as the hooves almost came down on her head.

What could she possibly do? She can't ride something like this!

A vague and slightly preposterous idea came to her head. She could enchant this horse. She never made a habit of enchanting things…she only used it for healing, not for other purposes. It came too close to the black area of enchantresses...

But it was the only option here, or she'd die for sure. She blew the powder in the horse's face and said the words. "Calm down," she ordered, her voice raspy and quavering. The horse, enchanted to obey her will, calmed down immediately, though its natural instincts were telling it to do otherwise. Now what the hell was she supposed to do? You had to climb on to it, you had to put a saddle on, and the angry voices were louder and a piercing scream cut through the air. Was that Nirisath? Yarrin, please don't let anything hurt Nirisath…

"Get down!" she said to the horse, who obeyed. She climbed awkwardly onto it, wrapping her arms around its neck and digging her fingers into the mane that hung down. She tightened her legs on the horse's body, knowing she was going to fall off, but the sheer fear and adrenaline that coursed through her body would be enough to keep her on now.

"Now go! Run!"

The horse broke into a gallop, skirting the fire and running into the courtyard. One of the Beasts had fallen, and someone else was standing there with a sword drawn. They were all surrounding Nirisath. She managed to meet the naiad's eyes for one brief second, and Nirisath nodded, her face hard and furious as she tried to defend her attackers. Go, she seemed to say. Let no innocent lives end tonight. The fire was still roaring, and Sarasael wanted to run back with this bloody horse and do anything she could to save Nirisath, but the horse was running too fast down the road, hooves clattering on the cobblestone streets, and no one could stop this horse now, not even Sarasael. It was all she could do to just stay on. The gates were open and the horse ran through the gates without stopping and continued down the river, soon leaving the great city and castle of Cair Paravel far behind.

The horse ran like this for a good hour before it slowed to a trot and finally walked, tossing its head and bucking a few times, trying to throw her off as the enchantment began to fade. Now it was exhausted and afraid and bewildered, having no memory of how it got from its stable behind Nirisath's house to here, riding down the shore of the Great River. And Sarasael didn't know what to do…she didn't know how to ride a horse herself. They had horses in Tahalset but no one actually rode them except as a hobby. They had motorcars, and she could drive one, but driving motorcars weren't horses. Motorcars didn't try to throw you off.

Finally the horse slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether, bending over to drink some water out of the mouth of the river. The horse, no doubt terrified from Millie and her company being all threatening, ran…Sarasael, having closed her eyes somewhere along the ride without realizing it, opened them to see that it ran all the way down the Great River. They were close to Beruna right now.

There was a town. Sarasael didn't feel like going to a town. Instead she waited for the horse to finish drinking and then walked him over to the wood, unhooked the reins, and used it to tie him to a tree.

Then she sat down next to the tree and leaned back against it, feeling the rough bark against her exposed neck, and the realization of the day's events hit her.

This morning, she was going to be engaged. Rilian had promised her that everything would be fine, and he'd take care of it all, and most especially, she'd have a home with him. He promised he would take care of her and find a way for her to be just as at home in Narnia as she was in Tahalset. He swore that he'd give her a home, since she had lost her own maybe forever. And gods, she had believed him. Why not? She loved him so much, she loved everything about him, from the way he grinned at her to that noble way of apologizing for _everything, _even though that was kind of annoying. That didn't matter, she'd get used to the annoying things just as much as anything else. That's what people did with those that they loved, they'd accept their faults. It was those faults that made her love him even more, especially the fact that he was prince of a whole country yet seemed more naïve than most of the boys from Mayharran Boys' School.

There was no way it could be over, just like that. There was no way he could just look at her and say, that's it, Sara, we can't see each other anymore.

Or ever again.

Then the brilliant and terrifying image of Nirisath's house, engulfed in flames, smoke clouding her vision as she desperately prayed that her teacher wasn't dead. Oh, Nirisath, I never meant to bring you any harm!

Nirisath's house, destroyed. The house that her mentor lived in for gods only knew how many years, the place that Sarasael had come very close to calling home. That was her fault, wasn't it? She was so foolish as to ignore Nirisath's warnings and march out there, tossing her head stupidly and defiantly and thinking she could change the whole world just because she wanted to. Now that brought the destruction of the house…and gods, if Nirisath was dead, then that was also her fault…she should have listened.

It just wasn't possible. None of this.

Rilian was serious. She knew by now the way he acted, the way he looked when he was lying, and he definitely wasn't lying here. She also knew how he acted when he didn't want to do something but had to anyway, and meant it…which he was, today. He hated it but meant it, because Rilian meant everything he said. He never…he never lied about anything to her. He really never wanted to see her again.

The king and queen had decreed it. She was only trying to get by in this strange world, and now they threw her out.

She didn't have a home now, not Tahalset, not Cair Paravel, nothing. Just this tree and this horse and a torn dress.

She could go to Beruna, but they'd probably heard the news already. They wouldn't want a witch to stay in their city.

Sarasael had no idea where to go now. The only place that came to mind was the place where she had started out. Maybe…maybe if she went back there, she could figure out how she got here. Then she could get home. She wanted to be at home so much it made her chest hurt. No matter that many years had already passed since she was last there, and Hylaea was probably done with university by now. But it was home, and she wanted to go back and see her mother and friends again, no matter how much they aged. She wanted her mother and father and even Mordian, though often he drove her crazy. She missed him and all of them horribly.

The Witch's castle…or ruins, as the case may be. In Tahalset the most important information was found in ruins.

Sarasael stood up and untied the reins. She mounted the horse slightly easier this time, though she still felt awkward. She still didn't know how to ride a horse, but remembered vaguely what Rilian showed her awhile ago when she'd ridden with him.

She kicked the sides of the horse and this time it obeyed, going into a trot. Was this how one rode a horse? It seemed to be working. She tugged with her right hand on the rein, and the horse went right. Oh, that's how it worked! It was kind of like a motorcar only more disagreeable.

Now where was the ruins of the White Witch's castle? It was north somewhere. She'd just head north and eventually she should find it. If not, maybe she could keep heading north until she reached the end of the world…there was an end to the east, the utter east, then wouldn't there be an absolute north as well?

She took the time to look at it closely. She was near Beruna right now. She just had to go north somehow.

She didn't remember much about the next few days. She just traveled, stopping when the horse needed it. She ate little, only what she found along the way, and changed dresses when this one was too dirty to use anymore. The only rest she got was when the horse was tired.

She reached the ruins of the Witch's castle days later. She dismounted and took her bag with her and left the horse to himself. It wandered around the castle, putting its head down to eat some much needed grass.

Sarasael picked her way among the rubbish and into the castle itself. The wind blew colder here than in Cair, and Sarasael shivered. She'd forgotten how much she hated the cold and also how cold it was here. That mantle she'd stolen from the dead Witch had been burned by Twitternut when she went to the Shuddering Wood. Well, maybe she'd steal another one. There were plenty of things left in the Witch's room, and Sarasael didn't care if she stole them. Not like it mattered, even though she wasn't anything like that evil Witch, everyone seemed to think she was. So wearing the dead Witch's things wouldn't matter in the least, especially if she found a way home.

Now she had to find her way back to that place where the door was. That was the first room she'd been in, maybe that would hold some sort of clue. It took her a good half hour to find it, because this castle was huge and it was easy to get lost. Most of the corridors were also filled with rubbish, ceilings that had fallen in and walls that looked like they were smashed by something huge. Finally she found the room, and it was exactly how she remembered it. It was still in ruins and the vaulted ceiling opened up in some parts into the cold gray sky.

The strange obsidian doorway stood in the same place and still went nowhere. The obsidian was nice though, and there were several crystals embedded at equally spaced intervals all through it. That she hadn't noticed. She touched each one of the crystals…they weren't any sort of gem she'd seen in Narnia or Tahalset. She rested a finger on one of the crystals and then jerked her hand away sharply. It was ice cold to the touch…but not the normal sort of cold one feels during the winter. It was a different cold, and when she touched it she felt like her hand would never be warm again. She shook her hand vigorously to get rid of the strange sensation.

But there were still no other clues, just the stones she hadn't noticed before. Maybe that cold was some sort of clue, but she couldn't think of what it meant. They were properly aligned…

That was something! It had to be. Perhaps…perhaps if she could properly align…but they were already aligned. Maybe it took a certain kind of magic to ignite the power in those cold stones, and that would make the doorway do something. After all, people didn't simply build doorways out of obsidian that didn't _do _anything.

She dug through the rubble and went through the whole room vigorously and found nothing, just more broken stones and dust. There had to be a way. She had to find something.

There was still the rest of the castle. Maybe if she looked there.

Most of the rooms were destroyed and anything that might have been in there once was no more. Soon she found her way back in what she figured was the Witch's old room. There was the boudoir she'd stolen the mantle from. She opened it again and found another fur mantle, all white. Sarasael found it kind of odd to limit oneself to only one color, but to each her own. She threw the mantle around her shoulders in order to warm up and went back to searching the room. Most of the things in here had been destroyed, but not by physical force. At each place where something might have been, there was a large, sharp scorch mark. She ran her fingers through the scorch…it didn't wipe off. _Death spells, _thought Sarasael absently. A lot of magic users did that…they'd weave spells around something so that if they die, the things would be destroyed. It helped keep their things private and out of the wrong hands. That's what this Witch must have done. It made sense. It also meant that there'd be nothing here.

She opened a drawer and found again nothing but scorch marks. But…no, wait, this was something. There was an ornate symbol carved into the wood on the bottom of the drawer. It was a strange symbol and looked like a sun, its rays lancing out to touch the four corners of the drawer.

She touched it with one finger, and for a second felt nothing. Then a cold breeze blew in through the window…it was bitterly cold and for the briefest instant smelled stale and ancient. It reminded her, for some reason, of the stones in the doorway.

Then another drawer opened. It was a smaller one further up and gave the impression of utmost secrecy. Sarasael had found something.

For a second, the excitement of finding anything in this dead castle actually made her smile. Then she remembered what she was doing here and the smile faded. It was her last chance to get home, and if this didn't help, she didn't know what she'd do.

She reached into the drawer and pulled out a small journal. It was bound in leather and tied in gold thread.

She opened the book, and saw a diagram of the door, with all the stones highlighted. There was writing all around the door and arrows pointing towards the different stones. Sarasael couldn't read the words…they were in some sort of strange language and lettering. She looked at the hard, angular script closer to see if she could make sense of them, but no…7

But as she looked, the letters seemed to rearrange themselves from the strange script into…into her own native Tahalset, with all the letters written perfectly. Sarasael knew an enchantment when she saw it, and this was one of the most powerful ones she'd sensed. It held long after the witch's death.

She closed the book and held it to her chest, keeping it there with just the knowledge that it wasn't going to vanish. Then she closed the drawer and went back into the room with the door.

She sat down and crossed her legs in front of it and opened the book in her lap, taking the moment to thank Yarrin for giving this evil witch at least the forethought to put an enchantment on the book, and even for keeping this book in the first place. Sarasael didn't like this witch but if her old writings could help Sarasael in any way, she supposed that the witch couldn't be all that bad.

She opened the book and looked down on the first page with the diagram. Each of the stones had writing next to it, but Sarasael couldn't make much sense of the writing. It was all fancy scientific terms of some sort, things about the alignment and magic that Sarasael knew nothing about. The witch's magic was different than Sarasael's, and she didn't understand how it worked. Then on the bottom it was written, in the same slanted and careful handwriting as the rest of the book,

_37.921.4. Last stone aligned to the seventh Narnian star, didn't work until thirty-sixth day, then success. All stones aligned and today the thirty-seventh of the nine-hundred and twenty-first year. The project is a success. Still specifics to work out, as of now the gate only goes to a world of little importance, but this first world shows that my work has not come out as a failure. With more work, I will be able to access other worlds. Tomorrow begins further research on how to attune the gate to the world of my choosing, as First World is only high mountains and seemingly no inhabitation as far as I can tell. _

Sarasael froze.

This was a gate into other worlds.

If this Witch had done it, there was no reason she couldn't, and no reason the people in her world couldn't, either. She rose and pressed a hand to the cold obsidian, trying not to get her hopes up. But this was here. And if she could figure out how to use the door…

Sarasael took several deep breaths to calm her building excitement. She'd have to read more of this journal first. But there was potential, and that very thought, that potential made the breath catch in her throat.

She spent the next hour reading it. The Witch had calibrated each of the stones to different stars in Narnia, using both her own magic and the power of the stars to make the gate work. The stones itself were magic and tied to a place beyond Narnia. The Witch made several oblique references to a place called Charn, and Sarasael guessed that that was the world that the Witch had come from. The stones were from that world and carried some of its magic. Most of the magic the Witch used she had learned there, along with what she had learned on her own here in Narnia. There wasn't much about that in there…this was more a log of all her experiments with this door, and really didn't say much else. There weren't any explanations of things as Sarasael would have wished…she didn't know a thing about the Witch's magic or about the magic from her world, but the Witch wasn't writing this as a reference for strange enchantresses from the future.

The Witch used her magic in some way that Sarasael didn't understand to make the gate work. It took her a few years to figure out how to get all the worlds to change…most of her early entries were about First World and how she managed both to look around in that world, and eventually, managed to make the gateway do more than view the world…a very triumphant sounding entry was when the Witch did something and was able to reach her arm through the doorway and into the world, and took a stone from there and pulled it into Narnia. So obviously the gate worked…the Witch mentioned that with more power, she would be able to get through the gate entirely herself and into these other worlds. It was part of a "larger plan" that she mentioned often, one that would lead to what she referred to as her "great empire". The Witch talked about that a lot, the fact that she was going to eventually conquer all the worlds and bring them under her dominion, and be queen not only of Narnia but of all the worlds in existence. She mentioned, only once, that she would be uniting the worlds under the crown of Charn and do greater than any of her ancestors had. Right now she was just observing each of the worlds and testing them and seeing which ones would be a good addition to the empire.

Some worlds wouldn't. An entry dated 9.942.26 spoke with annoyance about a world composed "primarily of chlorine and nitrogen, making it unbreathable for myself and for the others that would exist in the empire. World Forty Nine is a failure and of no further use for the potential of the empire, and therefore must be disregarded from now on." A few others were labeled as a high success, some easier to conquer than others. Either way, this part wasn't helping Sarasael all that much. She wanted to know how to make the gate _work_, not how to take over worlds. She didn't care about making an empire or anything.

She reached the end of the journal. The last page was short, and said only,

_17.999.57. Complications. Nine hundred and ninety-ninth year nearly over. Son of Adam resides in my throne room, guarded by Maugrim. Gate opened to World Fifteen, the first world I have decided to conquer after Narnia is completed. Narnia complications arising, therefore the project must be suspended for the moment. Maugrim brings news, gate will be sealed until further notice. Project should be completed and gate stabilized after this task is finished._

That was all it said.

Sarasael flipped that page several more times, like she was expecting more to appear. That was all. She vaguely knew what happened after that…Rilian mentioned it once. Soon after that there was some sort of huge battle and the Witch died, and therefore her project was never completed. The gate still stood, and since the Witch didn't finish it, it should mean that Sarasael should be able to. She could try and work it herself. It probably wasn't fully calibrated to the Witch's magic or something.

Well, how did it work? Frantically, she went back over the book, searching for at least some sort of clue.

_1.970.23. Difficult to hold on to each world longer than an hour. Gate acting sporadic of late, answer is clearly to a miscalculation I made on 29.968.322. Unless I finish the second terminal before lining up the first and the fourth, the gate won't be able to hold on to one world for a lengthy amount of time. Near afternoon, due to this mistake, it jumped from World Nine to worlds Fifteen, Eighty-Three, and Twenty all in quick succession. Taking steps to fix this problem, will use Perenn's law to align seventh at sundown._

Half the things the Witch said, Sarasael didn't understand. It was all some sort of strange scientific other world magic, nothing like that they used in Tahalset. But there had to be something there.

_45.975.3. Only way to stabilize the gates was to tie it to my own Power. An idea I am not too fond of, as it could cause complications should anything happen to me before this project is completed. But Perenn's law holds, and as long as I live, the gate works as I will it. World Fifty-Seven shows promise, and tomorrow will send through the Chipmunk I captured in order to test the atmosphere and terrain._

There was a sudden noise in front of Sarasael. She looked up and closed the book with a jolt, nearly falling backwards in shock. The gate in front of her shimmered, and then she had the clear view of a world where two figures were sitting together in a swamp, talking in low voices about something. The first showed a wand to the second, who glanced nervously around the swamp for a moment before looking at the wand. Sarasael stood up and cautiously reached out, touching the face of the image. The two figures looked up at her for a brief second before the image vanished.

Sarasael clutched the book to her in shock. For a moment, she had seen into another world entirely. And two people in that world had seen her, too. Oh, if only she could figure out how the gate worked!

Then she looked back at the page in the book she had marked and read it over again. Then again, then three more times.

The gate was calibrated to the Witch's magic.

No. She could use it, too. She was a great…or at least on her way to being a great Tahalset enchantress. And she wasn't too shabby a healer either. She could make it work.

So she went back into the book, reading it over several more times, and each time realized more and more of how little this would actually work. From what the Witch said, the gate had difficulty holding on to a world for a long time at first. Then sometimes it would stop at one world and take something from it and bring it here before shooting off to another. It took great effort on the Witch's part for the gate to actually obey her, and only after she tied it to her magic was she able to control the gate. Gates, the Witch had written, did not like to open into other worlds. There was something that did…the Witch wrote about a place she might have been but can't quite remember, a terrible place that liked to lead to other worlds. But the gate was having trouble.

The day ended when Sarasael closed the book fully, lowering it slowly into her lap and realizing what must have happened. Once the Witch had died, the gate had fluctuated, not breaking but not being here nor there. It would open to any place in any world, even for an instant (the Witch had trouble with this at first), and sometimes it would take something and sometimes not.

That, Sarasael realized with a shudder, was what must have happened to her. The gate had rested for a moment on her unfortunate location in Tahalset and in a desperate attempt to obey its long dead master, had brought her into Narnia.

It obeyed the Witch, it listened to the Witch's magic and commands. Nothing, short of bringing the Witch back from the dead, could make this gate obey her and be able to send her back to her world.

This last attempt was hopeless. She wasn't going home. And she couldn't bring the Witch back from the dead…she didn't know how (that was left to the necromancers), and even if she did, what good would that do her if there was an evil revenant witch coming back to take over the world or something. Plus, the Witch probably wouldn't help her anyway.

Sarasael stood up and threw the Witch's book hard across the room, watching with some strange satisfaction as it struck a ruined wall and a few of the pages fell out. She'd come all this way in hopes of finding _something…_and she got her answer. She found out how she got here and yet again, how she was still never going back.

She sat back down on the dirty ground, ignoring the pointy rock that dug into her thigh. It was still hopeless, even worse than before. Now she had no home and no one to speak of, only a hostile world and no way of getting back.

She shivered and pulled the fur tighter around her. It was so cold here, so lonely. Maybe she should stay here. There wasn't any food or water, just ruins, but it was somewhere. Not a home, but a place to stay. No one was going to chase her out. She rested her head on another stone and felt the soft fur against her cheek. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to go. She decided to just stay here, stay here until maybe she felt hungry enough to eat something or drink something, and then just…just get by, until maybe eventually the gate would work again. At least then she would have a faint chance at finding her way home. Shivering and alone, she closed her eyes and fell into a strange and fitful sleep.

* * *

The plan lasted a good week. She lived half in a dream, not thinking about anything except a distant life in this old ruined castle. She let the horse go, figuring she wouldn't need it anymore. It seemed glad for that and ran back in the direction of Narnia in general.

Sarasael figured she'd live out her life here in these ruins. Maybe if she felt like it, she'd try and rebuild some of this castle. Not that it would mean much, but it would give her something to do. Then maybe she'd look around the countryside and see if there were any plants here that weren't in that book she read back at Cair. It was possible, though she didn't particularly care. For now she just lived here. The first day she looked around the castle to see if there was anything else of the Witch's left over she could learn from, but there wasn't. All signs of life here had been gone for hundreds of years. Sarasael had to admit she was vaguely curious, that this evil person might have been sort of interesting in life. But for the most part she was glad that the witch was dead, if just because it gave her a castle to stay until…until maybe something happened.

Soon into her second week, she decided to leave the ruin. She threw the mantle around herself and stepped out into the surrounding area. She wandered out onto the plains, looking absently at the plantlife. It gave her something to do, as she tried to name every single plant she looked at. She picked a hyacinth and crushed the scented flower between her fingers. Nothing she could make at the moment required hyacinth, but she liked the way it smelled.

But then she was bored. There wasn't anything to _do _here, she'd seen it all and suddenly didn't feel like she wanted any part of the ruins anymore. All it did was show her that she was trapped here with no way of going home. She didn't even know why she was staying here in the first place. Frustrated, she gathered all her things from the room she'd chosen and decided, for no particular reason, to keep going further north. She felt restless and wondered if she'd find something somewhere else.

It was harder without a horse. She wandered absently through the northern area. It was harsh and wild and cold, and she hated the cold but for the most part ignored it. Maybe she'd end up becoming one of those wandering nomads, those people who'd just keep traveling because they had nothing better to do. She certainly did it. Maybe she'd be a hermit. They had no interest in company, and she wanted people to stay as far away from her as possible.

There was a river she found one day. It was smaller than the Great River but reminded her of that anyway, just because it was a river. There was no noolu moss or fireweed growing along these banks. Nirisath always would yell at her to go gather that, they were for some reason always running low on fireweed. Probably because noolu moss and fireweed mixed together was an excellent solution for severe sore throats. That all seemed like years ago to Sarasael, though in reality it was only a little over two weeks. It felt like an entirely different life, that time in Cair. So did that time in Tahalset. She felt as if she wasn't anyone, just something composed of different lives of different people put together, and none of those lives had yet to define her as a person, but just existed, and when each of them ended it left her standing on the banks of a new river that probably couldn't be crossed.

"Not lost, are you, dearie?"

Sarasael startled, hearing a voice. It was the first voice she heard in two weeks, and for a minute she had to process it. What was someone doing this far north?

She looked up…and saw a leg.

She looked further up and saw an arm. Then she craned her neck all the way back to see a large, ugly face looking down at her.

Giants!

She took several steps back from the giant. All the stories she could recall about giants were bad ones. Northern giants, at least. They all had to be driven north because they were fierce and brutish creatures who would eat practically anything that got in their way. This giant was certainly no exception…she was smiling down at Sarasael with all her huge rotten teeth showing, and her grubby unwashed hair complemented her dirty fingernails and…ugh…the smell.

Still, she was speaking to Sarasael.

"I'm not lost," she said, and her own voice seemed to startle her. It didn't sound much like her voice. But she hadn't heard it very much lately.

"Where are you going, then? Pretty thing like you shouldn't be wandering out this far north." The giant said. Her voice was gravelly, and it was only due to the ancient and seemingly falling apart dress she wore that Sarasael even recognized it as a female. She suddenly felt self conscious of her own appearance, which no doubt looked horrid. She hadn't even bothered to take care of herself since she arrived in the Witch's castle. There was no reason to, no one was going to see her anyway.

"I'm just…" where was she going? Nowhere in particular. "I'm a nomad," she said finally, saying the first word that came into her mind.

"A nomad?" the giant looked puzzled. "What's that?"

Sarasael wanted the giant to go away and leave her alone. She didn't want to talk to anyone, much less smelly, ugly giants. "It's someone who lives without a home. Someone who wanders and lives away from sentient company. Kind of like a hermit, only they move," She explained, wondering why she was explaining this at all. Now maybe the giant would leave her alone, and she could get on with her nomad life. She didn't want people around anymore.

"Well that's odd," the giant said, wrinkling her nose. "It's dangerous this far north. Something could happen to a pretty girl like you."

If she looked pretty to a giant, she must look worse than she thought. She reached up to run her fingers through her hair. It was beyond tangled and matted and disgusting.

"I can take care of myself," Sarasael said, annoyed that the giant was still staying there. She wanted to be left alone.

"Doesn't look much like that," the giant mused. "You look tired and hungry."

"Why do you care?" she snapped. Her fingers went to her belt as she ran through all the powders that she had. Maybe one could be used to get the giant to leave her alone. Her fingers rested on the embroidered figure of Yarrin. What did he want out of her anyway? He hadn't done anything to help her since they forced her out of Cair Paravel.

"Oh, I care," the giant said wisely. "I don't like seeing creatures like you all hungry and alone. Something could happen to you."

"Good." She said, letting her hand fall away. There was nothing here that could help.

"Not good," the giant shook her large head. "Definitely not good. This is dangerous ground, girl. You don't want to be out here at night."

"Well, I do, so you can go back to wherever you live now." She said.

The giant smiled. "Why don't you come with me?"

Sarasael looked up at the giant and raised an eyebrow. "Come with you? Why?"

"You're hungry and look tired. You should come with me. It'll take a little while but I can take you to Harfang. There you can sleep and eat and get fixed up pretty, how's that sound?" The giant's smile wasn't very nice, but Sarasael didn't notice.

Harfang. The name sounded vaguely familiar, and she might have heard it before. She couldn't remember where…probably someone in Cair mentioned it. She tried to think of what else was said about it, but it all slipped her mind. Harfang wasn't a good thing, though, she knew that. Harfang was somewhere far north, not even in Narnia anymore.

Not even in Narnia. That realization struck her with a jolt. She'd heard people talking about the "wild lands of the north," an untamed country that everyone only knew to keep out of. It wasn't in the Narnian empire…it wasn't part of any empire. It was just there.

Harfang was about as far from Narnia as one could be without actually leaving the world altogether. She was being invited, too, and that was more than anyone else had done.

Sarasael didn't have anywhere to go, and she certainly never wanted to go back to Narnia again. This giant was offering to take her to Harfang, which at least was _somewhere, _because Sarasael had been anywhere but somewhere for the past two weeks. Maybe she could stay there and they'd leave her alone. It would give her somewhere to be.

"Well, fine," she said. "I'll come with you to your Harfang."

The giant's smile broadened. "How lovely," she said. "You'll like it there, dearie. You're nearly in time for the autumn feast. It's the best time of the year, don't you know, and someone like you will be greatly appreciated."

This was autumn? It was so cold here already, and it wasn't even winter. Further north it would be worse. At least the fur offered her some protection from the biting wind.

"Great," she said, shrugging her bag back onto her shoulder.

Then, much to her shock, the giant reached down and scooped her up in one enormous hand. Sarasael couldn't restrain a small, shrill scream of alarm.

"Put me down!" she cried.

"Not to worry, dearie," the giant said. Her voice was low now, and just as gravelly. "I'm going to carry you to Harfang. It'll take no time at all with me, but if you walk, it'll take you much longer, someone so small and bony as you. Hm, but you're not too bony, are you?" a finger poked her in the thigh. "No, you'll do just fine."

The giant's hand was warm and hairy, and also very smelly. She felt squashed and uncomfortable, not to mention thoroughly undignified. Though what was dignity to her at this point, it didn't matter that much at all. No one was here to see her. No one would ever be.

"We'll just be going then. Nanny's got you, poppet, so don't worry." The giant started moving, and Sarasael wrapped her arms around her bag and tried not to think about what was actually going on.

* * *

Harfang.

The name was misleading. It sounded fierce and terrible, and one would expect Harfang to be an enormous dark castle with pointed turrets and a drawbridge and siege towers.

Instead, all Sarasael saw was something that looked like an oversized house. A mansion, really…a large mansion sitting on top of a crag. The backdrop looked more frightening than the actual castle. Behind it were more mountains and sharp rocks, and the grey sky that showed the coming of winter and the promise of snow. The castle itself just looked dilapidated. There were odd windows and doors here and there and it looked rather drab against the dark sky. The ground all around Harfang was littered with stones. Half the stones seemed to come from Harfang itself…there were bits broken off the top of the castle and all around it. It didn't look all that impressive…in fact, it looked rather run down, from where Sarasael was seeing it.

It had taken three days to get there. That was a lot longer than Sarasael had thought, from the way the giant was talking, but she really didn't care either way. They crossed a lot of countryside but that didn't interest her all that much either.

"There we are," the giant said cheerfully. "The gates close a little after noon, so it's a good thing we got here now or we'd have to wait out all night. They'll let me in." and the giant reached out with her other hand and pulled the gates open. "Welcome to Harfang,"

Sarasael watched as they walked down the path approaching the castle. All around it were ruins, even worse than the ruins of the Witch's castle.

"What are all these ruins?" she asked. It was the first time she spoke since they left.

"Don't know," said the giant. "They've been here a good long time. Don't mean much to us." What was strangest, Sarasael thought, was how there were no plants growing among the ruins. Usually there were. Here, it seemed that all plantlife stopped at the gates of Harfang.

The giant set Sarasael down when they reached the main entrance. This castle was designed for twenty foot high giants, and Sarasael was only a little over five feet. It made absolutely no sense why they'd want her here at all; she couldn't do much for them, except maybe heal injuries or something. Each one of their stones was practically her height.

The giant knocked three times on the main door and waited. Then finally the door creaked open. Sarasael wasn't thinking very much, but this did not bode well. She wouldn't be surprised if the castle was haunted. Haunted and with giants.

The giant at the entrance was wearing an enormous sparkly dress and a crown, and that was about all that was nice about this giant. She was fat and stuffed into her dress, and had a wide face with a double chin that wobbled when she walked. Overweight, thought Sarasael. That caused problems. Stress on the heart and circulation system, she was very likely to have a heart attack or problems with her legs from the excess weight. There was also the potential for diabetes…Sarasael heard no one in Narnia mention diabetes but they did have it in Mayharran and it happened a lot with overweight people. She remembered that now. Maybe even back then she still had the mind of a healer.

"My queen," said this giant. Sarasael couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. This was the giant queen? She wasn't going to last much longer if she was _that _fat.

"You're late," the queen said curtly. "We sent you out to do a simple look around the countryside and you come back late. What's keeping you?"

"Brought a girl for the autumn feast," the giant said, bowing even lower.

"A girl? Let me see."

And the giant nudged Sarasael forward with one large toe. She almost fell over, and righted herself just in time to look into the giant queen's oversized face. People with double chins were all the worse to look at when they were only inches from your own face. Sarasael winced and turned away to avoid the eyes that were squished above fat cheeks. If she were still a healer's apprentice, she'd prescribe a very steady diet of…of…oh, damn, she forgot what Nirisath used for diets already.

Instead, Sarasael curtsied. "Good afternoon," she said politely.

The queen smiled now. "Come inside now, and let me look at you." The queen started walking, and Sarasael ran to keep up with her. These giants were so inconsiderate, they didn't think about anyone who was of lesser size than them. The halls were clean, at least. She looked critically at the inside of this castle. It was nowhere near as glorious as castle Cair Paravel. It was more sinister and cold. The walls were bare except for a few tapestries, and the rooms she glanced into looked messy and unkempt. Giants had no hygiene to speak of, it was ghastly. No wonder they were driven so far north.

Finally, the queen stopped in a huge room. It had a high ceiling and many tables and chairs, and at the head of it all was a table with two thrones in front of it. A male giant was sitting in one of those thrones, picking his teeth with something. He wore a bigger crown than the queen did…this was the giant king, in his…throne room. That looked sort of like a dining hall as well.

The king noticed their arrival and threw aside the toothpick. "What is it now? Have you brought something to eat?" The king looked nicer than the queen. He was a good normal weight and had a curly beard, and if he wasn't so large, tall, and picking his teeth with what looked like a thigh bone, he might have reminded her a little of her old history teacher.

The queen reached down and picked up Sarasael, dropping her hard on the table in front of the king. She heard a crunch and realized something in her bag must have broken when she was dropped. These giants were rude and despicable and she hated them already. Now she really wanted them to leave her alone, if all they were going to do was pick her up and drop her places.

"This is a girl that Nanny found," the queen said. "Look at her." And an enormous finger came out of the sky and poked Sarasael in the side, rolling her over.

That was too much. She stood up and dropped her bag, facing the two giants. She had been through a lot and was tired of people treating her like a sideshow exhibit. She was a certified Tahalset enchantress, not something to be stared at and thrown around.

"Leave me alone," she said forcefully to the two giant rulers. "I didn't even want to come with you, but that other giant said I should. I just want a place to stay until I find out where I'm going. So if you would stop _poking _me and dropping me everyplace you feel like it. I can walk, you know."

The two giants looked taken aback at her sudden outburst.

"Well, poppet, we're not used to having company," the queen said. "And this close to the autumn feast, no less."

"Terrible shame," the king shook his head. "She's a feisty one, that's for sure."

"Makes all the better." Said a cheery voice from another direction. Sarasael turned to see another giant coming to them, wearing an apron and carrying a big spoon. A giant chef. Sarasael was starting to regret coming here at all, with everyone being twenty feet tall, and if that was a normal sized spoon…

The giant squinted over at her. "What are you?" the cook demanded.

"I'm an enchantress," she said.

"What's that?"

"It's…exactly what it is."

"You're a girl."

"Yeah, I guess so." She wasn't a girl, she was seventeen, and in one more year she'd be a legal adult in Mayharran. But to these giants she must look like a girl, less than that, considering her minimal height here.

"Oh how lovely!" the cook clapped his hands together. "This will be the best feast we've had in years. We're so glad to have you here, poppet." And she got another poke, this time by the spoon.

"I said stop that!" she reached for her third pouch and pulled out a sprinkling of orange powder and threw it at the chef. She said the word and then the spoon suddenly caught fire.

The cook dropped the spoon with a pained yelp. The fire flared and then vanished, leaving behind only ashes and the smell of burnt wood. The cook rubbed his hand and looked at her with shock.

"I told you to leave me alone," Sarasael said, crossing her arms. "And I meant it. I'm only staying here because I have nowhere else to stay, and if you want I'll just leave because I really don't care and I just want everyone to go away, so don't try and poke me again or I'll set you _all _on fire." And she really meant it, because right now she had no patience for all these giants being annoying like this and getting on her nerves and _bothering _her. Was it that hard for them to just leave her alone? She'd get out of everyone's way. And she didn't want to hurt anyone else, and was afraid if they kept doing this she would. They'd leave her no choice.

The cook looked at the king and queen. "Well, she's feisty alright," the cook grumbled. "This better be worth all the trouble I'll have to go through."

"It's the feast," the king said. "It's always worth the trouble when we have opportunities like this."

She had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn't matter.

The queen turned back to her. "And look at you," the queen's voice was suddenly nice and sweet, or as sweet as a giant could make their voice. "You must be tired and hungry. Nanny here…" she indicated the first giant who had changed into a much nicer dress but was still as smelly as when Sarasael first met her. "Will take you to your room. You can have a nice hot bath there and put on some clothes and then we'll give you a nice dinner!" the king nodded his assent, and the first giant…Nanny…went to take Sarasael in her hands, but stopped.

"Why don't you just walk with me, poppet," Nanny said, having seen what happened to the cook.

"Thank you." Sarasael nodded to the king and queen and then followed Nanny back through the castle.

It was difficult to keep up, and the giants didn't bother to wait for her. She was out of breath by the time she reached the room Nanny was giving her.

"There you go," the giant gave her a little push and sent her sprawling into her room. "Now I'll just make you a bath." And Nanny walked away quickly before she got set on fire.

Sarasael got to her feet and looked around what would be her room. It was the same as all the other rooms…dismal, bare, and enormous. There was a huge window with shabby curtains to the left of her bed. The bed alone she'd have to climb into and wouldn't be surprised if she got lost in it. The dressers were too big, and so was the wardrobe. Everything was ten times her size and she had no idea how she would be able to live here. Well, it would be temporary, until she could find something better. At least she wasn't in Narnia anymore, and that was most important.

There was nothing on any of the walls except that one window, and it opened out into the courtyard of Harfang, giving Sarasael a nice view of the ruins. This was the most depressing castle in the universe, in all the universes. She figured she'd end up staying here anyway.

She climbed up into the bed…it wasn't that hard…and lie down on it. It looked and felt practically the size of half of Nirisath's house. She doubted she'd ever be able to sleep in it.

She felt she should be thinking of how strange this all was, that she just got picked up by a giant who carried her across a country to a castle called Harfang, but somehow it just didn't seem strange anymore. It seemed part of life, to have all this happening. Nothing ever happened back at home except for school and more school, definitely not giant kidnappings, if that's what this was. At least she had no complaints about a boring life. But she'd rather have boredom than have this.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder.

"Go away," she snapped, wanting to be left alone. What did they want with her? She wasn't anybody important, didn't they know that?

"It's just Nanny, poppet," she heard the gravely voice say. "Bath's all ready for you."

Damn these giants. They wouldn't leave her alone, and she so wanted to be.

"And I found you some pretty dresses, too."

Go away. Just go away.

But the giant didn't. She stood there, obnoxious and large, towering over Sarasael and looking expectant. Sarasael only wanted to sleep, she felt so tired, more tired than she had in weeks.

Finally she stood up with a sigh, figuring the giant wouldn't go away until she did what the giant wanted. A bath would be nice anyway, so she followed Nanny into the other room where there was an equally enormous bathroom and a bathtub large enough to stick half of Mayharran Girls' School into. This would be difficult.

But she managed. And it was nice to have a bath, her first in a long time, she realized with disgust. How had she allowed herself to get like this? She washed all the dirt out of her hair and struggled with her own brush to get the tangles out, but it was mostly hopeless. The giants actually had clothes that would fit her, another thing she found surprising. Nanny had left a wide array of dresses back in her room, all sorts of colors. It looks like they were finally now taking some care of her.

"There you go," Nanny said cheerfully. "Glad to have you here. Want anything to eat, you just give Nanny a call, won't you?"

She shrugged and ignored the giant, instead sitting down with her bag and going through it.

"Rude one, this," she heard Nanny remark. "Well at least it won't be too bad when the feast finally comes around."

Sarasael continued to ignore her, and Nanny left the room with a loud harrumph.

* * *

The week before the autumn feast passed surprisingly quickly. She stayed in her room and would occasionally wander the halls just to see what was there. The giants mostly stayed out of her way except for Nanny and that cook fellow who kept looking critically at her. But thankfully she was ignored all the rest of the time and allowed to get on with what reasonably passed for her life. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Finally the day of the autumn feast arrived. Nanny woke her cheerfully, a wide grin displaying all her mostly rotten teeth. "Morning, poppet," Nanny caroled, opening the curtains to let the sun in. "Day of the feast, you'll be wanting to look your best!"

Sarasael woke up as usual and combed her hair. The giants had been talking practically nonstop about this feast thing of theirs since she had arrived. It was this big important event in Harfang, and from what she gathered, she was going to be an important part of it. No idea why, and she rather hoped she wouldn't. She didn't feel important, here she just felt short.

When she finished washing, she found a pretty green dress to wear. It was a forest green kirtle that Nanny had left out for her today. She liked green, it was the color of her star form and of her eyes, and…she tried to shove the thought out of her mind as she remembered that Rilian always loved her eyes. She put the dress on, deciding for once to look her best at this fancy feast of theirs.

"Don't you look pretty," Nanny said, looking over Sarasael.

"Everyone says it's so important," she replied with a shrug, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears. This made Nanny smile even more, because Sarasael hadn't talked much this whole time, and some of the giants thought it was odd and too bad they didn't get to know this strange little girl before the feast.

"Oh it is," Nanny nodded. "Most important feast of the year. Come along now," and Nanny ushered Sarasael out of her room and down the hall. As usual, Sarasael had to run to keep up, and was getting thoroughly tired of this. She was surprised when they passed the dining hall and Nanny was pushing her in the direction of the kitchens.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Nothing, poppet, don't you worry now." Then with a hard boot, she kicked Sarasael into the kitchen and slammed the door.

Sarasael sprawled out on the floor, getting dust all over her dress and a large scrape on her knee. She immediately pushed herself back onto her feet, intending to turn around and yell at Nanny and do something for the absolute rudeness of that. But Nanny was gone, and the door was shut. What were these giants playing at, anyway? Did they expect her to find her way to the dining hall?

She looked around at the kitchen, which was most definitely a kitchen. It smelled like one and the whole room shook with the booming footsteps as the cook approached. He arrived and squatted down, looking Sarasael straight in the eye.

"Look at you," he said, and gave her a prod with the spoon. "Not a lot of fat on you. Best save you for the king and queen. Grumpy thing too. Won't miss you sulking around the castle all the time, no." Prod, prod.

"I told you not to poke me with that spoon again," Sarasael said as coldly as she could manage.

"Oh well. Too late for all that, eh?" Then she got picked up and dropped on a table.

This was all too much. She was tired of being treated like luggage by everyone in this bloody castle.

She stood up, facing the cook, who was humming and dropping herbs into a boiling pot.

"I told you never to do that to me again," she repeated, her voice low.

The cook glanced at her. "But it's too late, poppet. Terribly sorry, though." The cook leaned over and sniffed the pot. "Good, it's ready." His hand reached for Sarasael again.

She took several steps back. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"No use talking me out of it," the cook said with a firm shake of his head. "We had a big old Bear who told us all about how fat he was in an effort not to get us to eat him, didn't work, but most people here don't like Bears so it doesn't matter anyway."

Sarasael stopped walking, the words taking a moment to sink in. Bears. Talking bears, that meant…

The words came back to her, from a long time ago. She remembered where she had last heard of Harfang. It was that day she first met Rilian, and they were sitting under a tree, barely having known each other. He was showing her a map of the world, the same map that she had stuffed in her bag right now. He was explaining each of the different countries to her, and he had pointed to the northern area and said,

"_It's the wild lands of the north…we have no idea what's there. Just Harfang, the giant's city, but no one ever goes there. Harfang giants are nasty. They __eat__ people…and Animals."_

That's where the name came from. And it took her this whole time to remember that…and why she also felt so wary of these giants the whole time. This was it, this was what they were going to do. They were going to _eat _her!

No, that was ridiculous. No one ate other people. But these were giants, giants lived by different rules, and they were all so awful and barbaric in this bare castle of theirs. And they ate people and Animals, just like Rilian said, and she could tell now by the looks on all their faces when they had seen her that they were planning on doing this since the very beginning. That was why Nanny had brought her here in the first place. It was all part of their plan from the beginning. No doubt girls were some sort of delicacy, especially ones from other worlds, and she was such an idiot not to notice…

The giant's hand came to her again. "Now, none of that," the cook said.

She didn't want to be eaten.

She wanted something to happen to her…for the past few weeks she thought of nothing but having something bad happen so that she would die once and for all, and be free of this horrible land that was so far away from her family. But now in the face of death…if she was going to die, it wasn't going to be cooked and eaten at some feast by giants! That wasn't the way for an enchantress to die, they all died noble deaths, or at least…not death by eating!

"You can't do that," she stammered. "You can't. Leave me alone."

"Sorry," was all the cook said, but he didn't sound sorry.

Her hands went to her belt pouches again, searching frantically…there was the fire again. She scooped out a large amount of it, enough to start a small forest fire, and threw it at the giant. Desperately she shouted the words…and the whole cook erupted in flame. He screamed as the fire consumed his arms body. He dropped the spoon and staggered back, clawing madly at his face, as if that would stop the fire.

She took that time to run.

Without thinking that she was on a high table, she ran right off the edge of it. It wasn't that far to fall…the pot was on a higher area than this. She hit the floor with a jarring shock, but the terror that they were going to catch her and eat her was too great and her adrenaline made her stand up and keep running. She felt a pain in her ankle and knew she must have sprained it and would have to worry about that later. This wasn't time for that, right now if she was killed she wouldn't have to worry about a sprained ankle. It hurt when she ran, but the pain was only a distant thing on her mind. She mustn't let them catch her!

Where was the way out?

She hadn't paid attention. She only knew the way to her room. The kitchen was behind her, and…and…where was the entrance? That way? No, she didn't remember ever being down that hallway. To the left? No, that led…she forgot where it led but it wasn't to the exit. Where was the damn exit? She had to find it and find it _now._

This way. Maybe it was this way. Blindly she ran down that hallway. There! There was a large door, she couldn't remember if it was the main door or not. She ran through it anyway.

And it was definitely _not _the main door. Giant faces, more than she could count, were staring down at her from different places in the room. The king and queen sat at the head of everything, and the king was pointing her.

Just her luck. Just her damn stupid luck she ran into the dining hall. Could it get any worse?

"What's that fool cook up to?" said the king. "Letting our dinner go running around the castle like this?" The nearest giant picked her up and walked forward, dropping her on the table in front of the king and queen. The queen looked down her nose at Sarasael.

"Go see what the cook's gone ahead and done," the queen said directed the other giant to do. "And what're you running from? Too late for you, dearie. Should have left when you had the chance."

"Cook's dead," said the first giant, coming back into the room with a face white as chalk. "Burned to death."

The queen pressed her hands to her mouth in shock.

"Eh? How'd that happen?" demanded the king. "Cooks don't set themselves on fire."

"I don't know," said the first with a shrug. Giants seemed not to care all that much if one of their own died.

"I did it," Sarasael spoke up.

They all turned to stare at her. For a second she was terrified that she had spoken, but then realized she had nothing to lose. They were planning on eating her, the least she could do was make them afraid of her before they did. If she was going to die a death such as this, at least try her best to go down as an enchantress and not a scared, displaced girl.

"You did?" the king asked.

"Yes, I did." She raised her chin defiantly. "I told you to leave me alone, and that cook didn't listen. He had every intention of throwing me into a pot and cooking me like some common animal. I told you all not to touch me and he made that mistake, and he paid the price of that mistake." Wow, she even sounded like an enchantress, too. That's how all the real ones talked, and when they talked like that, people listened. At least she was going to die as one, then.

"We've brought you here to eat," the queen growled.

The king reached for her again.

If she was going to die, she'd take one or two of them with her.

She reached for her powders again, this time pulling out a large handful of her generic spell powder. An idea came to her…she didn't know if it would work, and didn't even know where it came from. But there was nothing to lose. She threw the powder in the air above her and spoke a word. It was a harsh word that caused the giants nearest to her to wince and cover their ears. It was a word that she'd seen in the Witch's journal, one of the fancy magical and scientific terms she was using when talking about how to activate her gate. It was just a word, just an idea, but it was better than nothing.

It was better than nothing.

It was _something._

Maybe it was the air of this world that made it work. Maybe it was the power of Narnia and the fact that the Witch did exist at one point years ago, and therefore the magic was still someone's to call if they found a way to call it. Maybe it was her own innate talent as an enchantress that caused it to actually work.

But it did.

Immediately, the powder fell around her, covering her in frenzied sparks. Each of the sparks struck her skin and exploded into a thousand more sparks, yet it didn't hurt at all. Instead she felt exhilarated and dizzy. The sparks flew all around and she was blinded by the intensity of it. She staggered back a few stops and could hear the faint gasps of the giants beyond.

"Don't touch me," she said again, and her voice echoed oddly around the high dining hall of Harfang. She looked at the outstretched hand of the king and pointed. Normally nothing would happen, her magic was strictly confined to the usage of her powders. But instead, a streak of lightning erupted from her hand and struck the king on his arm. "And you, too." The first giant…she could see several sparks strike him, and he clutched his throat and convulsed before falling over, dead. "All of you. Never touch me again." Impulsively she held out her hands and sparks shot all over the room. She could hear them hitting other giants and hear their cries of terror, and several chinks of plaster fell from the ceiling.

A hand reached for her, but it stopped short and jerked away. She could see blisters forming across the outstretched palm. The queen even tried, their giant minds not processing all that was taking place. The queen tried to close both hands around Sarasael, and screamed as the flesh was seared off her fingertips.

"What is this?" the queen cried, her injured hands hanging limply from her arms.

Sarasael wasn't even noticing them. She was standing there with her arms up and her face turned towards the sky, the brilliant sparks surrounding her body, and she felt as powerful as Yarrin himself. No Tahalset enchantress would have this much power. And for the first time, she felt exhilarated and fierce, and on some level, actually happy. That Witch's word worked. She didn't know how long it would last, or what the exact effects were, but right now it didn't matter.

"I told you not to touch me," she said, and even her voice sounded different. It was louder and sharper than before, and rang through the whole hall. "And I meant it. Touch me again and I'll kill you all. Try to eat me again and I'll raze this castle to the ground." She felt she could, too. All it would take was a touch and the thought, and the whole of Harfang could be ignited. It would burst into flames that would rise higher than those that consumed Nirisath's house. Nirisath did nothing to her, she didn't deserve what happened, but these giants did, these filthy giants. She would just have to point at one of the giants and kill him, just like the other one who had tried. She'd keep the queen alive for now, and the king, too.

She could hear exclamations of terror as several other giants put their hands too close to her and pulled away, either burned or blistered or any number of injuries. None of them she'd kill, she didn't feel like it.

Just as suddenly, all activity stopped. She felt all the giants draw away from her and smiled with satisfaction. There, they finally listened to her. Giants were just as stubborn as they were rude, and it took them a good long time before they finally learned their lesson. Now they'd leave her alone. Or she'd burn their castle entirely.

There were loud noises all around her, and so she decided to open her eyes. The sparks cleared, though they still danced around her arms head, swirling faintly and igniting on her dress, making it glow a brighter green color than it was. She lowered her head and looked out among the dining hall.

Every single giant there had gone to their knees and were pressing their foreheads to the floor in supplication. Even behind her, the king and queen were bowing low, their hands clasped together.

"My lady," the queen said reverently.

Sarasael lowered her arms now and turned around. "What?"

"My lady," the queen repeated. "You've arrived at last."

"What are you talking about?" Sarasael shook her head to rid it of the sparks that had settled in her hair. They flashed about and then faded. Slowly the other sparks faded, too, and the spell was over. Sarasael was now standing on a tabletop, looking every bit her normal self, just dirtier and with a sprained ankle. The spell and that brief moment of absolute power was gone…she didn't even know how it worked in the first place. Now she was just Sarasael the enchantress, and every single giant in the hall was bowing to her.

"What are you bowing for?" she demanded, brushing the hair out of her face and looking up at the queen.

The queen, surprisingly, went to her knees and down to Sarasael's level. "Because you have finally arrived to us," the queen said, her voice still soft.

"I don't understand."

"Find Garal." The queen said, and one giant got up and ran out of the room. "Garal will explain everything to you. He is the one who knows."

Garal was an old giant, and looked to be the oldest one there. He wore a fraying, patched robe and had scraggly gray hair hanging down to his shoulders.

"Eh? What does everyone want?" Garal asked, looking around in bewilderment. He was nearly blind with age.

"Come and see our lady." The queen said. Everyone in the room who was still on the ground scooted aside to make room for the old giant to come through. Garal was guided down the aisle, and the other giant nudged his arm and pointed in Sarasael's direction.

Garal reached out, and his hand stopped several feet from Sarasael's head. "I can't touch her." Garal said.

"None of us can." The queen held out her blistered hands, even though Garal couldn't see.

Garal focused in her direction the best he could. "What happened?" he asked.

Sarasael glared at him. "Your Nanny brought me all the way here." She said accusingly. "With the intention of cooking and _eating _me for their autumn feast, which is positively barbaric and disgusting. They tricked me, leaving me to think that I'm a guest when in reality I'm no better than some common cow or deer to be fed and then thrown aside." She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice. "And I want to be left alone, that's all. I was not going to suffer the indignity of being eaten. I give you the same advice. Don't touch me or I'll kill you." She didn't know if she could, now that the power was gone. But they didn't know that.

"Then it is true,"

"What is true?"

Garal looked distantly past Sarasael and at the queen, who nodded somberly.

"There was a prophecy," Garal said hoarsely. "It was made years ago by one who was descended from those who…used to…the ruins outside. The one who was descended from the great ruler who built the buildings that are now ruins. He looked out at our castle and shook his head and said…that…someday we would be in ruins too." There was a murmur from all the other giants. "He promised us…he made…they call it a prophecy. That someday Harfang would be great again, like it was once. It used to rule the entire northern country, both the uncivilized giants and all of Ettinsmoor. That someday even Narnia would respect us again. That's never happened." He said wistfully. "But he promised us Harfang would be great again, and that one to lead us would come someday. She would be from far away, and…" he focused on her, his eyes wide. "She would wear green, and we could not touch her." He reached forward, and to Sarasael's surprise, a burn spread across his hand where he was too close to her. "She would not be a giant but would lead us to greatness. She would make Harfang feared and respected again. She would be Harfang's lady." He turned his burned hand upside down and took it away from Sarasael's area. "You are our lady. The Lady of the Green Kirtle."

All the others took up the murmur, still staying in their bowing position. Even the king and queen bowed to her, their eyes lowered respectfully.

"That's absurd," Sarasael said, shaking her head. "Absolutely ridiculous. You put faith in prophecies? I'm just a schoolgirl from another world." But at the same time as she said it, she knew how ridiculous she sounded. It was very difficult to convince someone you weren't special after you were just surrounded by glittering sparks and could set anything on fire with only a touch, and burn the flesh off one's hand with a glance.

Maybe she wasn't just a Mayharran schoolgirl.

Maybe she was destined to be something greater…

No, she was a healer. She was Nirisath's apprentice. She was a schoolgirl who thought she had the right to fall in love with a prince and was thrown out of the city for her foolishness, turned away by the one she loved, called a witch and a murderer.

That's what they said in Cair Paravel. That's what they thought of her in Narnia, no matter how hard she tried to do good. She had healed and learned and loved, and worked with Nirisath to help all those in Cair. And they had thrown her out, despite all that, thinking nothing of what she was doing and only what they wanted to think of her. That's where all that had gotten her, absolutely nowhere.

Now these giants…they were disgusting and rude creatures. Their castle was bare and cold, the giants disrespectful and ugly. Worse, they ate people and Talking Beasts. There were few things in the world that could be worse than that, than this place that Sarasael was right now.

All she had done the past week was ignore everyone. She'd stayed in her room, and now when they tried to eat her, she'd hurt them all and proclaimed for them never to touch her, and now they couldn't. Their hands were burned and blistered and two of them were dead. She had harmed them…and now they were all bowing down to the floor and called her their lady.

It didn't make sense. It went against everything she had ever learned.

But since when had that helped her? She was worlds away from her real home, from her family and all who had cared about her, and who she cared about. And in Cair Paravel…Rilian wasn't going to come after her and hold her and tell her it was fine, Nirisath wasn't going to sigh with annoyance and tell her to get more fireweed. She was on her own now.

What did she care about Harfang? Why would she even want to make a place like this great? Why, even more, should she even believe this strange prophecy?

Giant prophecies were simple. They didn't happen very often, and they were always short and easy to understand when they did. Giants were simple and couldn't understand fancy words and complications. And now the king and queen were looking at Sarasael expectantly, wondering why she didn't understand it as well.

Why shouldn't she be their lady…

She pressed her hands together and raised her head to look at Garal. She didn't know the first thing about ruling or helping a country, and didn't know what she could do. She was a simple enchantress, what could she do to make an entire castle of these giants actually respected in Narnia. She'd seen what Narnia was like…they were all advanced and civilized and nothing like the giants here.

Yet they had thrown her out, while these giants…they were…respecting her.

She wasn't used to being looked at with respect. She didn't deserve it, not after all she had brought. But still they bowed.

"My lady," the queen said. "Guide us and teach us. We live for you to command, so you can raise us up again and make us respected and feared. You are our lady, the lady of Harfang, and we live to serve you. In your wisdom we are led."

The other giants took up the chant, their low voices rumbling through the hall.

There was no reason she couldn't do it.

"Very well." She held her hand out, and they all stopped. It sounded so strange to her, to be speaking this way. "I accept your prophecy, and this position."

"Thank you," said the queen, pressing her forehead to the table before Sarasael.

It was something to do. These people…to her surprise, they wanted her. They needed her, and that was more than what could be said of anyone else.

"You want me to be your lady, and I will do that." Was she supposed to make a speech? She didn't know what else to say. "And you want me to make Harfang great, and I will do that, too. Right now Harfang is only this castle, far to the north, known for nothing but uncivilized behavior and slow, stupid giants who know nothing and exist only to eat. Ettinsmoor is a wild land, and in Narnia, they speak very poorly of it. There's hardly a difference between you and the giants in the rest of the moor. Narnia does not respect you, they look down on you. I will change that."

The king and queen rose, and smiles broke out across their ugly faces.

"Harfang is not known for anything. It does nothing for others, and as a result, people only look down on this castle here. This castle itself is falling apart, in no better state than the ruins outside. I will change that, too. If Harfang wants to be feared and respected, we must first change here. You want me to be your lady? Then I will change all that needs to be changed, and eventually the name of Harfang will be woven forever into the tapestry of this world, and Aresia herself won't be able to remove the thread."

It wasn't much of a speech, and Sarasael wasn't much of a person to make speeches. But the giants seemed to like it. They all rose to their feet and took up a cheer that shook the very foundation of Harfang. The king and queen pumped their fists in the air and even Garal joined in, hooting to the ceiling in his old, scratchy voice.

All of these giants were chanting for her.

She couldn't believe this, couldn't believe she was agreeing to their prophecy when she didn't like anything about these giants. But she had no home, no family, no teachers and no one to love…

Harfang needed a lady to make them great.

She would be their lady.


	15. Chapter 15

((Hi again! I'm not quite sure what you mean with asking if I had planned it all out from the start...I did make an outline of most of the story before I sat down and wrote it, if that's what you mean perhaps? Though some things (a great deal of things actually) changed along the way and deviated from my original outline. Yes, the whole story is finished...I finished the last batch of edits to it a few months ago after about two years of work. I'm very glad you like it :) There's thirty-two chapters in total))

By the end of the day, Sarasael was given a room in the central castle. It was all her size, the bed and the furnishings and the wardrobe full of pretty and exotic (albeit very old) dresses. There were rich, plush carpets on the floor, and thick warm blankets on the bed to protect from the biting northern cold. There was a large fireplace and a table next to it, as if they had already known she needed a work station. The furniture was all a deep cherry wood, making this room seem warm and inviting despite the fact that the rest of Harfang was as far from that as possible. The giants had given her that room, telling her that they had always kept it as they waited for their lady to come to them.

It was all ridiculous. She didn't know how to run a country. And they were all giants, and she was only a little over five feet tall. What could she possibly do to help these giants? What would they need her for? That's all they kept saying the next few days was how grateful they were to have her here. But she hadn't the faintest idea what to do next.

Overnight, she'd gone from an enchantress to a real Lady. And she was completely and totally lost.

The giants kept coming to her for advice, every day for the next week. They'd bombard her with inquiries. What should we have for dinner tonight? Should the queen wear a hat when she went out today? Would Stag be better than regular fish? Is Chaffan old enough to go out on a hunting party? Three giants from down near the Shribble are eating our game, should we kill them?

She didn't know the answers to any of their questions. She knew plants and healing, and right now it seemed like the giants didn't need any of that. By the fourth day she was so tired of their constant questions…they'd run Harfang for gods only knew how long without her guidance…that she slammed the door to her room shut and locked it, adding a spell to the lock to keep anyone out.

They wanted too much of her, and they believed entirely in that prophecy. She felt nothing like a lady, just all the more of a schoolgirl living in a fancy room with twenty foot tall giants asking her things she didn't know about. What could she possibly do for Harfang? And she still wanted them to leave her alone. They just didn't seem to understand that part.

So what, was this home? It didn't feel like it, not with its cold stone and hard floors and bare walls. The wind blew in bitterly on this desolate north, and the nights were dark and horrid and one didn't know what lived out there on the moors. Was this the place she was supposed to call home for the rest of her life? This run down castle with giants bowing and scraping all over the place? She didn't feel like thinking about it.

Later that night, there was a knock at the door. It was light, not hard and loud as the other giants seemed to do. Sarasael had set up her workstation and for the first time was looking through her book, wanting to make sure she didn't forget anything. There were several new spells in the back she wanted to try…and she had to go out and gather her herbs tomorrow. They'd maybe give her a little bit of time to herself to go out and do that. She didn't know what sort of plants they had around Harfang. And…ugh, she also had to learn how to ride a horse. One of the giants had picked up a horse that wandered too far from the Shribble and brought it to her, smiling broadly and expecting her approval as they placed a large, terrified brown horse in front of her. "That's your horse, the giant said. "All you little folk ride horses. See it all the time."

Now there was a horse tied out behind the castle that looked as if it was about to die of fright every time someone got near. And she had to learn to ride, because it was the only way she could get around Ettinsmoor. She wished she knew how to build motorcars like they had back home.

There was the knock again.

"I'm busy," she said. "Come back later."

"Please, lady," the voice was small. "We need help."

"I'm sure you can find someone else in the castle who will be able to help you. I'm busy at the moment." Was it that difficult to leave her be? They took care of themselves just fine before she came.

"Please, it's Yarag, he's hurt real bad."

She stopped working. "Hurt? How so?"

"He fell outside on the ruins. Please, can you help us?"

"Fine." Sarasael walked over and unlocked the door. Immediately two giants staggered into her room. They were only children, roughly eight feet tall, and one was supporting the other. They were both covered in blood.

"Gods above," Sarasael whispered.

"Yarag got hurt," said the first. The second, Yarag…his face was white and his eyes were closed. He looked fine otherwise…except his head.

Yarag's head was practically split open. There was a deep gash in his skull and it was bleeding profusely, as most head wounds tended to do. The blood was all over him, and a lot of it was on the first giant too. There was a crack in his skull, and Yarag was barely breathing.

It was the worst injury she had ever seen. No one came to Nirisath like this.

"What happened?" she demanded.

Demanding! That wouldn't do. Standing around and asking questions wouldn't do. This giant needed help straightaway or he would die.

She was tired of death. She remembered Starwing, and the way his breathing cleared and he just…died. She didn't want that to happen again. She was a healer first, before being a lady, and dedicated herself to helping people. This giant…if there was one thing he needed right now, it was a healer.

A strange calm descended over her, despite the blood that was getting all over her room. She knew nothing about running a castle and a country. Healing, she knew all about that.

"Bring Yarag over to my table there," she ordered, pointing. The first giant, whom she recognized as Talfa, helped his friend over there and placed him as gently as he could in front of the table.

Thankfully they were both young, and only eight feet tall. She could work with this. She climbed onto the table, which put her a little over the giant's head.

She didn't have anything with her except her powders. No herbs for healing, no water, nothing. She sighed in frustration.

"Get me water," she said.

"Water?" asked Talfa.

"Yes! Water now, if you want your friend to live!" Talfa scurried out of the room, leaving her alone with Yarag.

Now what?

Come on, now, think. Think. This was healing, this was something she knew how to do. Starwing was old and he died from pneumonia, as a lot his age did. She wasn't a murderer. She was a healer, she was Nirisath's apprentice. She wasn't an idiot…she knew what to do.

Head wounds this serious she never had to deal with.

But she wasn't going to let this giant die.

She placed her hands on each side of Yarag's head the best she could, and pulled the wound towards her. It was even worse from this angle…she could see bits of gray showing through. He damn near split his head right open. Wounds like this were rarely fixed, not even Nirisath could do something like this.

Giants were tougher than normal people. Yarag reached a hand around, and a large finger stopped just before it reached her arm. They still couldn't touch her.

"Lady?" Yarag said, and she was startled to see that he could actually speak.

"Yes. I'm right here, Yarag, don't you worry. I'll fix you right up."

Talfa came back then with a full bucket of water. He was smart enough to put it on the table next to her.

"Thank you, Talfa," Sarasael said. She took off one of her scarves and dipped it in the water and gently began washing the blood off the outside of the wound so she could see it better. She thanked Yarrin for making giants so tough…it took a lot to kill one of them, even at this young age. "So tell me how this happened." Nirisath always talked to her patients and the people with them when she was healing. She said it helped calm them down.

"We were outside," Talfa said. "We were just playing. There's lots of rocks outside and they're all pointy, and there was a whole bunch of rocks piled on top of each other and Yarag stood up on them and he was pretending to be king of Harfang and ordering everyone around. He was being kind of a bully. But he was too heavy and all the rocks fell and then he fell too, and his head hit one of the pointy ones and it just…bang!" Talfa held his hands out. "There was blood all on me and on him too and there's all the stuff on his head and we're gonna be _dead _because we're not allowed to play out on the pointy rocks."

"The ruins are dangerous," Sarasael said, taking some of her healing powder and sprinkling some in the water. "Your parents were being smart when they told you not to play there."

"But we did it anyway and Yarag can't die." Talfa insisted. "If he dies then my mum's going to kill me too."

"Well you'll have to give me a minute," she said briskly. "And I'll see what I can do for Yarag here."

She took the cloth and dipped it in the water with the healing powder. She held it over the wound and twisted the cloth. The water dripped onto the wound, soaking in with the blood and the brain matter. Yarag whimpered and his breathing went shallow. She took a deep breath and tried to keep herself steady. This was horrible. She didn't even know if it would work.

She took another handful of her powder and sprinkled it over the wound and into it. That was more than she had used any other time, including with Starwing. There was so much blood.

She said the appropriate words. There was only a small reaction. No, she needed to put more power into it. Just saying the words normally would do it, but not with something this large. She pressed her hands to either side of the wound, giant's blood getting all over her hands. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, attuning herself to the problem in front of her. Forget the giants. It was like taking your starform. Don't worry about anything. There's nothing of Harfang, nothing of blood and the smell of sweat and fear. Nothing at all. Forget all that, and only focus on this. Every speck of powder was in and around the wound, and she reached out with her power to each one of them. There was so much that she could see the wound in extreme detail, and focus on each part of it at one time. She said the words again…slower this time, and without looking, brought her hands together very slowly. In her mind, she could see the bone knitting together, the skin over it linking and the blood vessels connecting again. The bacteria and infections, she seared them away, leaving only healthy cells in their place. Several more times she brought her hands together, willing the wound to close successfully.

Then, it was done. Just like that.

Sarasael opened her eyes and looked down. Yarag's breathing was steady…there was blood all over his head, sticking his hair together. But the wound was gone. She ran a hand over the place it had been, feeling only smooth skin and bone in its place.

"There," she said, a wide smile crossing her face. "There! See, you're fine now, aren't you, Yarag?" She could barely keep the enthusiasm out of her voice. She'd never healed anything like that before. It was a huge wound that would have killed any other person that wasn't as hardy as a giant. But she had done it. Yarrin's claws, she had done it! Yarag was standing there fully healed, and already the color was returning to his face.

Talfa grabbed Yarag's head with all the roughness of young giants, ignoring the fact that only moments ago he was seconds away from dying. His hand prodded where the wound was.

"It's gone!" Talfa said.

"Yeah!" Yarag exclaimed. "Look, I'm not going to die!"

"You're going to live!"

"I am! See look, I was going to die and now I'm all fixed up!"

Sarasael stood on the table, her hands and entire front covered in blood. She'd need a long bath to clean all this off of her. Dirty, but feeling successful for the first time in a long time. She could heal something terrible like this, and she could heal someone near death and not have them die. They were so happy…just look at that! The two young giants were grinning at each other and right now mock wrestling, which was the way that most giants showed affection for each other.

"Oh thank you, my lady, thank you!" Talfa went to his knees and clasped his hands together. Yarag awkwardly followed the suit, still stunned from the loss of blood. "You saved my friend a now he's going to live! You are as great as everyone's been saying. You can do anything."

"Please don't tell my mum," Yarag added, looking slightly mournful at her. "'Cause I'm alive now and don't want to die."

_You are as great as everyone's been saying._

She smiled and held out a hand above each of the giant's head. "Then I want you to promise me one thing," she said.

"What?" asked Talfa.

"That you won't go out on those pointy rocks where your parents told you not to. If you go playing there, one of you might be hurt again. I won't tell your parents if you promise not to do that again, and to always listen to them when they talk to you."

"Oh we well, my lady, we promise!" Yarag and Talfa said quickly together, nodding vigorously.

"Then go with my blessings. And be more careful next time."

The two scrambled out of the room, leaving her alone again.

Sarasael sat down on the table, her legs dangling off the edge, and she was smiling for the first time in a long time. Look at that. She was a real healer.

She could do it. That's what she could do for these giants…she could heal them. For the first time in an even longer time, she felt happy. And confident…she hadn't failed anyone!

But there was a lot more to healing than just wounds. She had seen Harfang…the castle was in a dreadful state. Her room was the nicest room there. The rest of the castle was dismal and dirty, the halls unwashed and the walls bare. The giants themselves hardly took care of themselves and lived filthy and unclean and showed no care for personal hygiene. It was no wonder they all got so sick. Gods only knew what kind of bacteria lived in the unclean halls, just waiting for some giant to come along with an open sore and then get in. Fever would strike easily here. Death seemed quite common among the giants, and they didn't seem to care about that. It was a dismal place that she was supposed to call home, this castle. This whole north, really.

They didn't care. Well, she did. She was first and foremost a healer, and she wasn't going to let death and illness run amok through this castle. To first heal the giants, she'd have to fix their castle. She'd have to clean it up, scour the halls and have them all washed and give them new clothes. And get rid of all the dental problems (rotten teeth simply wouldn't do) and any possible things that could cause illness. And if she was going to live here, she wouldn't let this castle be as dismal as it was. They surely had tapestries or something that could be decorated, right? Didn't people put tapestries in castles? Maybe that would make it look like a better place, one she'd actually imagine living in.

And there was a library close to her room. She would have to go investigate that, and read what she could. Maybe there were books in there that could tell her about Ettinsmoor's past, and Harfang too. Perhaps the past rulers had left some sort of record and it could give her a clue on how to run the castle here.

She still had to gather more herbs. Right now she had absolutely nothing except all the powders she had made back in Narnia. She needed to replenish all her supplies and see what kind of plantlife existed around Harfang. And now the whole north was at her disposal…that would involve learning how to ride a horse, so she could ride around the north and collect anything she would need for her work.

Here was a workstation, and a large fireplace she didn't have to worry about. She could learn and experiment and if she blew anything up, she could get something new. There would be no worries of these giants blaming her for anything.

Tomorrow she would practice riding. She'd do that until she was ready there. Then after that, it would be time to better explore the ruins. After that, the library.

This healing had given her a sudden confidence she had lost. She could do this ruling thing, it seemed. She had helped that giant and he was grateful for it. And they listened to her! She spoke, they bowed and called her lady and did what she said.

Lady of Harfang, Sarasael thought. That's what they wanted.

And, she thought, she could do it.

* * *

She made her first venture into the library the next day. It was dusty and mouldy and she was coughing for a good five minutes upon entering it. She immediately ordered the giant who had opened the library doors for her to clean it out straightaway before she went back in. That took the rest of the day, and the work of four giants, but it was done and now the library was livable. 

It was bigger than any other library she had seen. There were books and scrolls everywhere, and a huge map of Ettinsmoor on one of the walls. Some of the books were stacked up near to the ceiling, balanced very precariously where the slightest movement would cause them to topple over. Others were in shelves, and all the scrolls were…in one of those scroll shelf things. Sarasael had never seen a scroll shelf before…they didn't have any like that back at home.

Well, this was her library now. She figured if she was going to learn anything about running a country, this was the best place to start.

It would take days just to go through this. No one had been in this library for hundreds of years, and when she asked Talfa, he informed her that none of them wanted to look in the small squares with the things in them. It was obvious that giants couldn't read…she'd have to fix that. If a country was going to be respected, they first had to be literate. That would also mean making books that were larger. She put that on her list of things to do. Whether or not real rulers actually made lists she didn't know, but there was a lot of things she didn't know and for her sake, she was going to keep a list.

There were so many books, and many of them were written in languages she couldn't understand. Narnian and Tahalset were very close, only a few discrepancies between the languages. Most places in this world spoke the same, but apparently Harfang hadn't always been that way.

It took her the best part of the week to just find things in the library that she would need. She managed to dig out several books and scrolls, all old records from past kings and rulers. She figured if she read through those enough, maybe it would give her some clue as to what rulers were supposed to do. There were no records at all of plants…obviously the past giants would have no interest in plants. She'd have to do all that herself.

Then there was the question of horse riding. The terrified horse tied out behind the castle was still there, and Ettinsmoor was an enormous place. She found in the library several maps, and it was a large area. The giants managed to cover it in a short while, but they were giants. It would take days, maybe weeks, to cross all the way from Harfang to the Shribble, and that was by taking the most direct route. It wasn't very well mapped out, so all the routes she saw were what were taken and built hundreds of years ago. The only way someone as small as her could get around was on horseback. So now she had to figure out how to ride a horse. It's not like anyone here knew how to do it.

It was a difficult day when she decided she was going to learn, or die trying, as the saying went. She dressed as sensibly as she could for horse riding (that was hard too…all the clothes the giants had were likewise hundreds of years old and only a few of them weren't falling apart. She'd have to fix that too).

It was a small wonder the giants all said they needed her so much. This place was impossible. But it gave her something to do.

The horse was a large brown creature and was tied to one of the giant rocks that stuck out from the ruins. She had ordered all the giants who wanted to follow her to stay behind. They would obviously frighten the horse.

The horse was frightened enough already. As soon as Sarasael approached, it began shying away from her, throwing its head back and whinnying, its large hooves crushing the gravel beneath them. She was immediately afraid of moving any closer, remembering that flailing horse outlined by smoke and fire at Nirisath's house, this close to crushing her with its huge clumsy hooves. This one wasn't nearly that panicked, but it was wary enough.

People actually _did_ this? All the time, too?

"Er…calm down," she said to the horse. It didn't. "Okay. Now." She reached in one of her pouches and took out a piece of sugar. Horses liked sugar, she knew that. She read it in a book somewhere back home…oh, the Ten Voyages of Tiendra. That took place way in the past, and people rode horses there. They gave them sugar, she remembered.

She held out the piece of sugar. The horse didn't stop bucking and acting all wild and scary.

"Here, just take the sugar," she said.

It slowly calmed down when it realized that she wasn't twenty feet tall and going to pick it up and maybe eat it. It still didn't trust her, and that meant she'd have to get closer than she was.

She took several tentative steps closer, and it did not bite her. Not yet. Only a matter of time. And they were all supposed to wear saddles and have reins, but she had none of that here in Harfang. What was she supposed to do? Ride one of these wild and ferocious creatures without it? That seemed like the only possibility.

She held the sugar out. "There, see, I'm not going to hurt you." As long as you don't hurt me, she wanted to add.

The horse's head came forward and nibbled the sugar out of her hand. It got drool all over her hand and it had large square teeth that looked just as likely to nibble a finger off as the sugar.

As soon as it had the sugar, it tossed its mane and bucked backwards, flailing its hooves in front of Sarasael's face and causing her to shriek and run back. Wild horses! They were all wild and crazy and going to _crush _her. She didn't want to learn to ride something like this. It was just a fluke that she managed to ride one all the way from Cair Paravel to the Shribble. She didn't even know how she did it. Desperation, that was it, and fear of what would happen to her if she turned back.

Was she going to have to enchant this one too?

It looked like that was the only option, as she had no idea what she was doing and no one to teach her. Eventually she'd stop enchanting horses and ride them normally once she knew how.

Enchanting it would calm it down long enough for her to get close to it, and maybe get it used to her. Then it would be calm around her all the time, if she kept the enchantment up long enough. Soon it would become second nature to the horse, going near her and being calm. At least that's what her book said about enchantment.

She blew the powder at the horse. It snorted and sniffed and tossed its head a few more times, then calmed down. Now she got near it, and all the horse did was snort into her hair. Other than that…it was calm.

Tentatively, she stroked her hand down its nose. It whickered softly and when it tilted its head at her, she could see its large black shiny eyes. No…they weren't so shiny. They had the faint glaze of enchantment over them. But there, there, the horse was being nice now.

She ought to name it. People named their horses.

"Er, there's a good boy," she said to it. Him. "I think I'll call you Slaen, after a person I went to school with." She remembered Slaen, he was a friend of hers. Not as close as Hylaea, but they helped each other in math. It would be good to call someone by a name from her home, even if it was just a horse. "That a good name for you? You like that?" the horse snorted but still didn't do anything wild. "So my name is Sarasael and I'm going to be your rider. How is that?" the horse pressed his nose into her hand. It was easy to enchant a regular horse.

She knew at least a little about riding. She rode across the land from the Shuddering Wood all the way to Cair Paravel with Rilian, and he taught her something. She rested a hand on the horse's flank, trying not to remember that whole time, especially with Mien and Toire and all the things that they did, too. It was so simple back then…she still had a tie to home and knew she was going back there, and no one in Narnia hated her for anything. And Rilian was there.

Now the horse was calmed down. No sense thinking about the past too much, there was nothing there anymore. Now she had to worry about the present, about how she was going to ride this damn horse and how she was going to make Harfang powerful when all she knew how to do was some magic and healing. There was an entire castle of giants who were peering down at her every day and acting like she was…

Royalty.

Her hand stopped stroking the horse.

People always bowed to royalty and obeyed everything they said. If Sarasael dictated that she wanted the kitchen clean, the giants would rush off and clean the kitchen. They were constantly running around and asking what she wanted, if there was anything they could do for her, and what she wanted them to do. Asking her advice and calling her lady…that's what people did to royalty. She had seen it all the time in Narnia.

Oh, what rubbish. She was just a healer's apprentice.

No…in Narnia she was, and in Tahalset she was a second year enchantress. Here, these giants were treating her like something far more than either of those things.

Her mind went reluctantly back to the last time Rilian spoke to her.

"_He probably wants me to marry a queen or something." _He had said to her, speaking of his father. Naturally, when he found out that she and Rilian were together…Caspian must have been furious, because she was just a commoner.

The idea was ridiculous.

But at the same time…it made perfect sense.

If she was royalty, then he would be allowed to marry her. And here…right here was her perfect opportunity! Ettinsmoor and Harfang didn't look like much, but here they had that whole prophecy saying she was their lady to make Harfang great. Harfang was the only thoroughly sentient place in all Ettinsmoor, therefore Harfang was the seat of power…and could logically rule the rest of Ettinsmoor. That country in itself was large…it was…practically a kingdom. No, it was a kingdom. It was a country.

It was her country.

It wasn't much right now. The entire north was disorganized, with the wild giants wandering everywhere and being destructive, and Harfang itself was a mess and the giants here didn't do anything productive. It would take time to change any of this. But she could do it.

Impulsively, she threw her arms around the horse, which neighed in surprise and swished its tail.

"It's brilliant," she said to the horse, who stared back at her. "Oh, and it makes so much sense, too. See? Obviously I couldn't marry him before. I wasn't royalty, and princes can't marry peasants, I always knew that and so did he. So of course he couldn't see me anymore. But it won't matter now!" she said triumphantly. "Because now I can actually do something about it! This is the ideal…thing to happen. I'll be Lady of Harfang all they want and once Narnia actually knows Harfang is a successful place, I can marry Rilian and we can be together forever. It's not over now; I really will see him again!" It was so clear now and she couldn't believe she never noticed it before. It was all part of Aresia's tapestry, of course. She was just too blinded by grief to notice it before. Aresia had woven her away from Cair Paravel in order to give her this opportunity, and through this not only would she be able to marry her love, but she would know how to run a country too. It was all too perfect she hardly dared to believe it.

She laughed joyously, feeling happier than she had felt in awhile. At last there was a plan and a purpose and a reason to do all of this.

"I'll be Harfang's Lady," she said to Slaen. "And when that's all done, I'll go back to Narnia and then things will finally work out. They always do." She said with the air of one who knows, even though she was still seventeen and didn't know a whole lot and was at the moment talking to a horse.

She was feeling so triumphant that without fear, she managed to climb up onto the horse. She untied the cord and put both her hands on the horse's neck. How did one ride horses? Oh, she'd figure it out. It couldn't be that hard if this many people did it. Especially since this horse was enchanted. All she'd have to do is keep it enchanted for a few more days, and then it'll be so comfortable around her she wouldn't have to do it anymore.

She kicked the horse's sides and set off rather shakily but with purpose across the ruins.

* * *

It took a week to learn how to ride the horse. And she had to admit, it was much easier now that she knew. Slaen stopped being afraid of her and she stopped enchanting the horse, and that was perfectly fine. She still hated horses, but since it was the only way of getting somewhere in this world, she knew she'd have to get used to it. 

There was still a lot to learn before she could act on her idea. She still had to become a real lady. Step one, she decided, was to read through as much of the old records of past kings as she possibly could. They knew what they were doing, and maybe it could teach her about what to do.

She only found a few records in a language that she could read, and spent a lot of time on those. The greatest king was the same one who made the prophecy. He ruled Harfang for decades, and through those decades even Narnia knew to stay out of Harfang's way. Back then, Harfang wasn't just a castle but a whole city. All that was left of the city was in ruins outside. Years of neglect, weather, and trouble from the wild giants caused it to end up the way it was now. But at one point it had been a magnificent city, and that king was so successful that he built a tomb with the words "Though under earth and throneless now I be, yet while I lived, all earth was under me." Now, all that was left were the words "under me", and such was the sole monument of that once great king.

But Sarasael had much to thank that old king for. He kept detailed records (and they were in very simple language, because even back then giants had a minimal literacy rate) of every great deed he did.

Now that left Sarasael with everything she had to do in order to elevate Harfang in the eyes of Narnia. She knew what Narnia was like, and that gave her an advantage.

The first thing she needed to do was fix up the castle. With the exception of her room, the kitchen, and the throne room of the king and queen, the rest of the castle wasn't in great shape. It was somewhat messy and falling apart, and the halls were bare and dreary and it wasn't a nice place for normal people to live. The giants themselves, she'd have to get them cleaned up too, and maybe even teach a few to read. Harfang was the first step.

What was next? The old king here was the one that forced the Marsh-wiggles back. They used to live past the regular marshes into this side of the Shribble, and the king had restricted them to only that marsh, and now there were no more Marsh-wiggles in this part of Ettinsmoor. That wasn't a problem.

The uncivilized giants were. They were wandering all around the north, throwing stones and getting into squabbles and generally being destructive. It was because of them that a few of Harfang's turrets were broken and crumbling. They'd wander by, get bored, and decided to throw stones at Harfang. She would have to deal with that problem somehow.

If she did all that, Narnia still wouldn't notice them. What she had to do…was get Harfang…oh, what was the word? Rilian was always talking about it. Royal…royal treasury. Treasury meant money, how did one get money…trade. Yes, that was it, trade.

The king had a large record of all the trade he had with neighboring lands. Now Harfang had no trade at all because they weren't good at anything. All they did was cook and eat and do precious little else. For Narnia to respect Harfang, she'd have to get some sort of trade started between the two places. Of course, she had no idea what. But at least it was an idea to play around with and maybe she'd somehow figure something out.

With that knowledge, though it wasn't much, she set about changing Harfang.

It would take awhile, that she knew. One didn't simply build a kingdom overnight. But it would all be worth it, no matter how long it took.

Harfang itself took a good seven months, and that was seven months of giants working practically around the clock to do what she said. At the end of those seven months…it was all a change for the better. The giants now all were washed and clean, they wore nice clothes and kept themselves completely decent. Any health problems were taken care of by Sarasael who was now thoroughly glad she spent all that time learning with Nirisath. The castle was refurbished, old tapestries taken out, cleaned, and hung from the walls. Dust was cleared and turrets rebuilt and by the end of seven months, Harfang was no longer a messy old castle with ugly, dirty giants, but a house where people lived and went about their daily work in.

The House of Harfang. Sarasael liked the sound of that.

Those seven months gave her plenty of time to continue formulating her plan, and she also got used to running things around the castle. She chose several giants to be her own personal guard…there was Yarag and Talfa, of course, those who had come to her first. Then she chose Fanarg, who helped her clean out the library, and Janile, mistress of the hounds. These four she taught how to read. That was an even bigger task than fixing the castle…giants were used to hard labor but when it came to reading, their attention span was shorter than a magpie surrounded by shiny objects. When they were first chosen, the four of them did nothing but talk of how happy they were to be chosen by their lady for such special tasks. They did this for about a week, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get them to focus. Finally when they realized they weren't obeying her, after apologizing profusely, they sat down in the library while she attempted to teach them.

Janile learned the fastest and was reading before all the others. Talfa kept complaining that he didn't see the point and that no one was going to be scared of people saying things, and Yarag kept getting bored and wanted to go play outside (his head injury made him no less reckless). Fanarg tried to eat one of the books the first day, then a scroll the second day, and if Sarasael hadn't stopped him he would have probably eaten a table as well.

This was the reason it took seven months to try and educate these giants. And these were supposed to be the better ones.

But nevertheless, after all that time, Harfang was a good and civilized place. Her four personal giants could read (and Fanarg knew what to eat and what not to eat) and the castle, while it was nowhere near as magnificent as Cair Paravel, it at least looked like a proper castle of royalty at last.

When she wasn't supervising the fixing of the castle, she was exploring the ruins around it. The giants were so pleased that they brought her two more horses from out near the mountains. Apparently they thought she liked them and wanted to "collect" them. Sarasael tried to explain that really, one horse was perfectly fine (and she didn't want to have to worry about _three _of the smelly, snorting beasts), but again they didn't seem to listen. So now she had three horses, who she respectively called Slaen, Tiendra, and Mordian (because, frankly, her brother as she remembered him was awfully reminiscent of a smelly, snorting beast).

Those months went by without any problems. In fact, they went surprisingly well, and she discovered something that made this strange situation that was turning out good even better. Among the ruins grew several plants, none of which she had seen in Narnia, and one of which was a key ingredients in white powder, the kind used sparingly and for absolute emergencies because no one was quite sure what it did. Now if only she could recreate it…she could definitely use it for something.

She worked out of her book almost daily and was progressing at a rate that alarmed even her. She knew she wasn't a bad enchantress, but this progress was almost frightening. Perhaps it was the Narnian air, perhaps it was the fact that she visited the ruins of the Witch's castle and that was practically saturated in old magic. But whatever it was seemed to jump start her skills as an enchantress, and she worked through her book and learned spells and new powders to create almost daily, though she didn't make any of the new ones quite yet. Part of her was thankful for these new skills and her advancement, but part of her was slightly afraid of this much progress this fast. It took normal enchantresses many years to get this good. This much power this soon…in her world, it often led to evil enchanters, who were so caught up in the power that they had that they thought of nothing else but it.

She wasn't going to become like that. She wasn't an evil enchantress. So she slowed down with her progress, and decided to take the time to analyze the rare plants and their properties instead.

Once Harfang was finished…well, that was only one of many problems she had to face. Next was the rest of the north and what to do with that. Ettinsmoor wasn't an empire and she had to find a way to make it one.

She was learning. After fixing Harfang, she felt that working on the rest of the north would be no problem. Everyone spoke that this queen thing was so difficult…but really, it was a skill, just like anything else. You could learn it and practice it and soon, with enough practice, could be as good as those who were born kings and queens. She didn't see the problem anymore. Then the rest of the north would follow…then she would have to find some way to make Harfang an actual success with the people of Narnia.

Sarasael folded her hands and rested her chin on her closed fists. This would take a long time, that much was certain. There was so much to be done and she was only scratching the surface of that much larger problem, of something that was most likely way over her head.

But then…she thought of Rilian, thought of the way he'd laugh and tell her bad jokes, the way he'd smile and call her by her nickname, and how when he spoke, the whole world seemed to be right…and she didn't care how long it would take.

Thus on the morning of her eighteenth birthday, Sarasael Inari set about the conquering and taming of Ettinsmoor.


	16. Chapter 16

_Castle Cair Paravel, five years later_

"This is the third time this week."

"I know, your majesty," Orisi replied. "And I don't know what else I can do about it. That territory up there belongs to the Marsh-wiggles, really, so it's entirely their problem." And Orisi winced, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. "I didn't mean it that way, your majesty," he added quickly. "Merely the events have been getting to me as well, straining my nerves and…I'm sure you understand."

"I understand completely," came Caspian's reply, and Orisi relaxed. "Sit down, Orisi, don't be worried. I just have to ask you a few questions, since you have been one of the ones patrolling down by the river this past week."

"Of course," Orisi nodded and sat down in one of the large chairs in the king's sitting room. He only met with diplomats here, and Orisi was far from being a diplomat. He was just a soldier and captained a small group of other soldiers…soldiers who hadn't had a job since a few months ago. Now Orisi was regretting having the job at all, even if it meant extra payment out of the royal treasuries and the glamour of fighting giants. That sort of thing belonged to High King Peter of ages past…that brave king had driven all the giants north and fought them out of Narnian territory. Orisi knew little about them, and the few fights he had gotten into had all ended badly.

"Now." Caspian sat down next to him, and Orisi tried to relax. He had nothing to fear from Caspian; Orisi was an honest man and Caspian was a good king. Still, he supposed, everyone had nerves when meeting the king of Narnia. "How many of these raids have been going on? I've had report from one of your other men…what was his name…"

"Talithan," Orisi replied instantly. The man was so anxious to gain favor with the king that he was willing to do just about anything. That included giving every single report to the king without mentioning it to Orisi first. He knew that this was perfectly normal protocol…Caspian naturally outranked Orisi who was only a captain, but still. It annoyed Orisi more than he cared to think about.

"Yes, Talithan. That there were three raids this week, and one of them included the death of that poor Bull who was staying with the Marsh-wiggles."

Part of Orisi wanted to say that it was the Bull's own fault for staying with Marsh-wiggles, because those people…oh, they were honest alright. But spending a week with them was enough to make one want to run out into the middle of the moor and call out to be eaten by giants, because the alternative was living with Marsh-wiggles, the singularly most pessimistic and depressing people in all of Narnia. Probably all of the world, if Orisi cared to think about it.

Orisi immediately rebuked himself for thinking such terrible things. It was only fatigue and stress thinking, not him. It was absolutely horrible that those giants decided to eat…actually _eat _a Bull. The very thought made Orisi queasy.

"Yes," Orisi sighed. "I'm afraid so. What can I say? It's gotten progressively worse this past year."

"So I've noticed," Caspian agreed grimly. "That's why I appointed you in the first place."

Orisi hadn't had much of a job before this. He worked as one of the palace guards, which was a very boring job, to be honest. All he did was patrol the halls at night and keep watch over the lesser royalty who were staying. Probably the most exciting thing he had done in his entire time employed as a guard was attending a banquet during the visit of one of the Archenland princesses. It was a safe job though, which Orisi didn't mind. There was good payment and his family was provided for.

The giant raids started earlier this year. Everyone knew the existence of wild giants in the gorge near the Shribble…for some reason, they all appeared there four years ago. No one knew about it until they were told by a very puzzled Griffin, asking why there was an entire group of giants living in a gorge. Several people went out to examine it, and found no logical explanation whatsoever. Those giants were large and stupid, often walked around with blank expressions on their faces, threw stones, and ran into invisible walls (no one decided to ask about the walls. They figured that these giants weren't all too bright and if they wanted to run into invisible walls, by all means let them). Those giants weren't a problem.

It was another kind that were.

Ettinsmoor was just a northern country as far as Narnia knew. There really wasn't anything else to say about that country. It was bare and few chose to live in such harsh and cold terrain. Far to the north was some sort of castle, but no one bothered to investigate that.

Recently, though, there were…incidents.

There were some who chose to live out on the moor. It was mostly birds or other creatures who liked isolation and would find a spot on the moor and live there alone. Deer had taken to it recently, enjoying the open spaces.

Those people had been disappearing lately. It wasn't much at first. A few people who lived out in the moor vanished and weren't seen again. That in itself wasn't unusual…it was impossible to account for every single creature in Narnia, especially those living that far north.

Then several Stags decided to live out together on the moor. These Stags were friends of the Queen's, so she always kept in touch with them. She fully supported their move out to the moor, where they were deciding to brave the elements and show their strength and independence in such a strange environment. Out of the five that had left, only one returned…breathless and nearly dead from exhaustion as it ran all the way across the moor only to collapse near death in Lantern Waste. They had all been set upon by giants…not wild giants as everyone thought, but…the Stag relayed with horror…civilized giants, who were wearing real clothes and carrying real weapons. They killed the four of them, and the last one just managed to escape with his life.

The name "Harfang" was heard among other names.

This was too shocking for the palace to ignore. Such a thing had never happened in all this time. Giants from Harfang…for everyone had at least heard the name sometime in their life…stayed isolated from the rest of the world and had no interaction with Narnia whatsoever. Now they brazenly attacked and killed (and no doubt ate) several Stags and most likely the others who had lived there in the moor.

Caspian had ordered a group to patrol up near the Shribble and keep a watch out for giants. Orisi had been assigned as captain to that patrol.

It was an honor at first, an honor that quickly wore out when Orisi realized this patrol did not have the same glamour as when High King Peter fought the giants. His adventures were described in elaborate prose and told at royal banquets. Orisi had a feeling that him and his patrol, living out huddled around fires and eating whatever meager fish they could catch in the Shribble, while at the same time trying to fight off what giants they could find while still keeping their lives…was not the type of stories to be told by poets strumming their lyres.

"So? Three incidents? Were you able to do anything about it?"

"We tried," Orisi said quickly, holding his hands out in hopeless supplication. "The first time, we were attacked at night. One of the giants was…smart enough to take out our sentry so we didn't know. They're quiet, too…nasty quiet, and smart. I didn't think giants were smart. They made away with one of our men that night." Orisi lowered his head for a moment in respect for their deceased comrade. "The second time, we tried fighting them off, but…the weapons they had! It's wholly preposterous, your majesty. They are giants, I don't know why they're fighting with actual battle axes and knives. Real weapons, not the crude things you'd expect out of them. This isn't right!"

"And the third?" Caspian asked without missing a beat.

"Same as the second," Orisi sighed. "They're outsmarting us. How in Aslan's name can giants from the north outsmart us is beyond my comprehension and all that of our men."

"I know," Caspian shook his head. "It's baffling me as well. As far as I know, no one has had any contact with Harfang for…I don't know…it's been more years than anyone can count. Clearly there is something more to these giants that we haven't noticed before."

"But why now? There've never been any patrols since High King Peter."

"I don't know," Caspian replied, looking momentarily bewildered.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Orisi. "I don't want people to keep dying out on the moor for some reason."

"That's why I called you here." The king's bewilderment from a moment before vanished, and he straightened to look right into Orisi's eyes. Orisi shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Whatever ideas you have, your majesty," Orisi replied respectfully.

There was a pause while Caspian considered each of his words carefully. It was no easy task.

"Orisi, I want you to go to Harfang."

"What?" Orisi's head came up and he looked back at Caspian, his brows drawing together in surprise and more than a little confusion.

"You heard me. The trouble isn't coming from the wild giants in the gorge. It's not coming from any other creatures in Ettinsmoor. The only other record of giants is from a place called Harfang, all the way to the north, past the White Witch's ruined castle, over the giant's bridge, surrounded by mountains. These records are fairly solid. Other than Narnia, that's the only place known to harbor sentient giants. With all this trouble arising, I have reason to believe that said trouble is coming from Harfang. There's no other way to go about this than to investigate it ourselves. Orisi, you're my best man here. You've patrolled the Shribble, and you captain all those men who look up to you. If I trust anyone to travel to the north, that's you."

Orisi knew he should feel better, for the king believed in him. But he didn't.

"No one's ever been to Harfang before," Orisi answered.

"Yes they have. Just…it was all years ago. Centuries, I believe."

This was exactly what Orisi meant, but he knew better than to say anything.

"I don't want any more lives endangered because of an unknown threat." Now Caspian's voice was commanding and held none of the friendliness as it had before. "Therefore the only thing to do is make an unknown threat a known one. This threat comes from Harfang, and I want you to go."

"Is this an order?"

"Yes, Captain Orisi, this is an order."

There were few things in the world Orisi wanted less than to have anything more to do with giants. But he obeyed the king's will.

"Then I will do as you say, your majesty."

"Thank you." Then, much to Orisi's surprise, Caspian bowed his head to him. "You're a brave man for doing this, despite your fear. I respect that. I know now I've picked the right man for the job."

"Thank you, your majesty," Orisi replied with a slight smile. "I'll remember that."

* * *

Orisi did remember it, or he tried his best to when he was sent out alone, with nothing but a horse, a map, an adequate amount of supplies, and told to go to Harfang and find out what was going on. He had to go alone, he was told, and even worse, unarmed, so Harfang didn't think it was an attack and would instead receive him as they would a diplomat. Orisi had a nasty feeling that Harfang never had diplomats and would look at them as rather delicious. And he felt naked going out in this wild country without his sword. 

It was cold, too, this deep in winter. Orisi shivered every night as he stayed as close to the fire as possible, pulled his cloak around him and hoped that this would be over soon. When he finally got back home, he would choose someone else to lead the patrol and would quit as nicely and gracefully as possible. Then take his family and move down to a nice cottage in the Shuddering Wood.

With all the weather delays, it took three weeks to reach Harfang. There was a horrible snowstorm the second week and Orisi nearly lost his way. By the time he arrived at the gates of Harfang, he was at the absolute end of his patience and two steps away from storming in there and demanding the giants to tell him what in Aslan's name was going on so he could go back, report to the king, and live out the rest of his life without adventures.

The gates were open, and Orisi trotted his horse down the path leading to the main doors. They were huge oak doors with a large bronze bar across it.

"What ho!" a large voice bellowed above him. "Visitors!"

Orisi looked up. A giant, dressed in what looked like the semblance of armor, grinned down at him with remarkably clean teeth.

"Who goes there?" the giant demanded.

"Orisi," he shouted back. "Captain Orisi of the Royal Guard, belonging to King Caspian the Tenth of Narnia,"

The giant only grinned even wider at him and disappeared back over the battlement. Orisi fluffed up his coat against the wind and hoped the cursed giant opened the doors soon, or Orisi would go up there himself and do it. Five minutes past, but just as Orisi was about to shout something again, the two doors opened.

The giantess standing there was dressed simply but neatly. She curtsied somewhat awkwardly.

"Good afternoon, traveler," the giantess said. "Welcome to the House of Harfang." She stumbled over the words. "What brings you here?"

"Let me inside first," Orisi replied shortly. Oh, he knew he should be polite. But he had no temperament for that right now.

"Sorry! We weren't being…hos…pitable," the giantess finished. "Parlo will take your horse." Another giant stepped out and saluted him. Orisi gratefully got down off his horse, and jumped aside in surprise when the giant Parlo actually picked the horse up and started walking around the castle with it, ignoring the horse's whinnies of terror and flailing hooves. "Now you can come inside!" the giantess looked proud of saying these things.

Orisi walked inside the castle. On the ground was a nice plush carpet, rolled all the way down the hall. Tapestries and ancient paintings of Harfang during what Orisi assumed was its heyday adorned the walls. It didn't look at all like the drawings in the books that he had looked at.

"What are you here for?" asked the giantess. "So I can tell our king and queen and one of them will receive you."

"I'm a…" No, not soldier. Not captain of a patrol that had intent to kill giants. "Diplomat from Narnia. I've come to discuss a few things with your leader."

"Oh!" the giantess clapped her hands over her mouth and turned to one of the other giants, who looked only a little younger than her. "Look! He's from _Narnia_," the giantess whispered. "He's a real Narnian."

The giant goggled at Orisi.

"No, that's rude!" the giantess smacked the other on the arm. "You're not supposed to stare. We're supposed to bring any Narnians to our Lady. She wants to talk to them."

"We've never seen any," the giant said, turning his goggle to a wary look. "They never come here."

"This one has. You go."

"I'm not going. You have to go."

The two stared at each other, and finally the giantess acquiesced. "Fine. I'll take him to our lady." She pointed at Orisi. "You have to come with me," she said.

Orisi didn't care who took him where, just as long as it would involve a nice meal and a real bed to sleep in. He was already feeling warmer since he got here, being out of the wind and he was surprised to find that the castle was even warmer than Cair was during the winter. He followed the giantess down more halls and corridors until she finally stopped at a wooden door even more ornate than the one at the entrance. This one was mahogany, and had what looked like an eagle carved into the front. The giantess knocked on the door three times and waited.

"What is it?" replied a voice from inside. It was quite unlike the harsh giant voices Orisi had heard since he arrived. "Janile? That is you, isn't it?"

"It's me," replied the giantess, and it struck Orisi that she now looked almost sheepish. "Sorry for bothering you."

"You're not bothering if it's something important." Whoever was inside, Orisi was surprised mostly by their voice. It was light and musical, and Orisi had the most preposterous thought in his mind that they must have a wonderful laugh. Then he shook his head for thinking such ridiculous thoughts. It was the exhaustion of weeks on the road talking, not Orisi's good sense.

"It's a…diplomat from Narnia. You say you want us to bring anyone from Narnia to you. So. They're here."

There was a long pause from the other end of the door.

"Then show them in, Janile," the voice said. "By all means let them receive your ultimate courtesy."

"Our lady can see you," Janile said with a reverent smile. She opened the door and gave Orisi a small nudge inside…then closed the door just as quickly.

This room was unlike any other in the castle. It was richly furnished with cherry wood furniture, a large bed with silk hangings, comfortable looking chairs and couches, and a door in the back that led to what Orisi figured would be an equally rich bathroom. In the corner was a large table, and the only thing that threw off the general impression of luxury was the burn marks on the table.

In front of the fire…there was a huge fireplace…was a large, high backed red chair. What struck Orisi even more was the person in it.

She was leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed. She was very close to the fire, yet that seemed not to bother her. And she was dressed entirely in green, a beautiful flowing green dress that seemed to cascade off the chair and brush the floor.

"Er, ma'am," Orisi said, bowing, suddenly conscious of his dirty and travel worn appearance.

Then the lady turned to him. She had brilliant green eyes that match her dress, and curly blonde hair that fell onto her shoulders. Strangely enough, there seemed to be bits of ivy entwined in her hair. Her face was sharp but elegant at the same time, and from the way she folded her hands in her lap to the way she sat in that chair gave Orisi the impression of someone who was clearly a queen.

And what was more…she was his size.

"You're staring," her voice was pleasant to hear after all the rough giant voices, and it was even more musical now that he was closer.

"Ah. Forgive me." He bowed again. "Here in Harfang, I was expecting to see…more giants. You're their leader?"

"Of sorts," she replied. "Really, they have a king and queen. But I am the Lady of Harfang, and rank higher than the king and queen. Therefore I suppose I can be called leader."

Orisi blinked. "Ah. Well. Then…they said I should come…they brought me to you."

She smiled. And it was a lovely smile. "They did well to do that." She rose from the chair, the silk of her dress making soft noises on the floor as she moved. "You have traveled all the way from Narnia?"

"I have,"

"Then you must surely be tired."

"That I am."

"Ah," she gave a nod and looked beyond his head. "Well in that case, it would be simply inhospitable of me if I didn't offer you, before all else, a hot bath, a prepared meal, and a place for you to rest. There are many rooms in Harfang, and I am sure I can find one to your liking. It is a hard ride across Ettinsmoor, I well know that."

"Especially with the snowstorm," he agreed.

"That one. Yes, it's a shame that you had the bad luck to be out on the moor during that storm. You should have told me you were coming and then I would have been able to bring you here sooner."

"Yes, terrible shame," Orisi agreed. "Pardon my appearance."

"Pardoned," the lady replied. "Now…where is Janile? Did she leave so soon? Or Nanny, she knows most about newcomers. You've never been to Harfang before, have you?"

"No, ma'am. Never been anywhere north of the Shribble, sorry to say. I'm an honest citizen of Cair Paravel."

"All the way from Cair you've traveled." She said.

"Yes."

"And it took you three weeks?"

"A little over that, yes."

"You've made good time. It took me much longer. Janile!"

Before Orisi could say anything more, the doors opened again and the giantess stood there again. "Yes, my lady?" she asked.

"This…oh! I nearly forgot to ask your name!" she said, turning back to Orisi.

"Er...Captain Orisi,"

"Yes. Captain Orisi here is my guest, and is to be treated with all the courtesy you would treat me with. Give him a bath, food, clothes, anything he desires, and find him a room to stay for the night. Perhaps you would care to join us for breakfast tomorrow morning?" she asked, looking querulously and tilting her head at him in a way that made him clear his throat with increased nervousness.

"If…if that's what you'd want," he said.

"I think it would be marvelous. Harfang is a lovely place, and if you've traveled all the way from Narnia to see it, I'd want you to see it at its best. Now, go with Janile, will you? She'll be good to you. Get some rest and feel better and we'll talk more tomorrow." She gave him one more brilliant smile and a nod before walking back to her chair and sitting in it, resting her chin on her fist, and staring into the fire.

"Come on now," Janile said from behind him. "We must obey our lady's orders." Orisi had to run at first to keep up with Janile as she walked, but as soon as she noticed this, she slowed down. "Sorry!" she said apologetically to him. "Our lady doesn't like it when we are disrespectful to the smaller type people. We have to walk with them and not make them walk to us. It's…court…courteous," she nodded.

"That it is." Orisi agreed. "And there are more 'smaller type people' in the world than giants, sorry to say."

"That's what she says too," Janile replied. "And that's why we have to be courteous."

Orisi followed the giantess through the halls to another part of the castle. He would have to report this back…the giants here weren't mindless and destructive. They were intelligent, well-dressed, and had…the strangest leader anyone could imagine. Orisi had known a lot of noble ladies in his day, and none of them he knew would want to live out here in the forbidding northern terrain and spend all their days governing giants.

Just goes to show you that you don't know the world until you're out in it, Orisi mused.

The room he was given was enormous, like every other room in the castle, but also quite nicely furnished. It wasn't as luxurious and fancy as the lady's room, but anything was better than the way he had been traveling for weeks now. He'd forgotten what it was like to sleep in a warm bed with a fire roaring instead of huddled up in as many cloaks as one could layer themselves in against some stones and pray that would be enough to shelter oneself against the wind. He was dreading the return journey already.

It was a wonderful evening, and Orisi's temper faded quickly after a hot bath and a meal prepared to his size as well. The end was the strangest…a small giant (by small, of course, being the size of a crabapple tree) came in and _measured _him. It was the most ridiculous thing he could imagine, some creature holding a tape measure around him while Janile wrote something down on paper. Then they left, leaving a rather bewildered Orisi to himself.

It seemed nice enough now. He sat down in a chair with a sigh, resting his head back against the soft cushions. It wasn't too bad a place now that he was actually there. Odd choice of location, but not that bad otherwise. He'd just have to find out more about it…no sense going out on patrol without learning anything. He had work to do.

But right now the idea of work was far from his mind, and with the warmth of the fire and softness of the chair, Orisi dropped off to sleep without even bothering to take off his boots.

* * *

The next morning, he was started from his deep sleep from the sound of a bell. His eyes flew open and he leaped from his chair, reacting to the sound of a bell like back in his old soldier training days. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't a soldier anymore, and was in a giant's castle, and then he fell back onto the chair and groaned. His entire body was stiff, not only from the hard riding these past three weeks but for a night of sleeping in a chair instead of a bed. He rubbed his eyes and patted his cheeks in an attempt to get himself more awake. He was still in Harfang, what a strange place it still was. What was today? He had to find out why giants were so close to Narnian territory and attacking Narnian citizens. That's why the king sent him here in the first place, not to sit back and relax in front of fires. Ah. Curse this duty. 

There was a knock on the door.

"Is there one Captain Orisi in here?" the gruff voice came.

"Yes, that's me," Orisi replied, combing his fingers through his short hair.

"Our lady has invited you to breakfast with us."

"Well, I'll be out in a minute." He replied grouchily, not liking being rushed. If the giant was going to rush him, he'd keep the creature waiting. Orisi took his time getting washed and dressed, and the giant was looking really annoyed by the time he finally came out.

"We're late now," the giant complained.

"Too bad," replied Orisi.

When they finally reached the banquet hall, they were even later than before. The entire hall was filled with giants seated at tables and food was being passed around everywhere. At the head of these tables were what Orisi presumed the king and queen giant. The king looked like a nice fellow, with a curly beard and a large round nose. The queen just looked…large. And the lady was sitting next to the queen in a chair built so she sat at their level. Today she was dressed in light blue, and was listening to what the queen was telling her. Just then she spotted him, and waved him over.

"Well go ahead," this giant said, waiting for Orisi to move so he could sit with his friends. Orisi, who was used to close scrutiny all his life, still felt a little awkward as he walked down the line of tables to the head table. He stood on the bottom and was surprised when another giant brought him a tall chair just like the lady's. He had to climb up on it and sit down on the top.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it?" she said to him with a small smile.

"Extremely awkward. Really makes you feel your size, a place like this."

She laughed, and that made Orisi smiled…her laugh was just as light and musical as he thought it would be, and just as lovely.

"Well, you're right with that." She answered. "It does. It was nearly impossible at first…when I first arrived here, oh, it was dreadful. There was absolutely nothing my size and I had to drink out of thimbles because that was the closet there was, and the thimbles were nearly the size of my arm."

Orisi chuckled. She passed him an oddly sized clear plate, loaded with eggs and meat and all sorts of breakfast foods.

"Help yourself," she said, indicating the plate.

"Ah. Thank you." Orisi took as much as he wanted. "Nice plate."

She smiled slyly. "It's an eyeglass."

"Excuse me?"

"The plate. It's an old glass from a pair of giant glasses. They actually used to wear glasses for bad eyes, and I found an old pair in the library and no one here uses them. It seemed as good a tray for food as any."

Orisi looked back at the plate, noticing now not only the clearness but the curved shape and shook his head.

"This is, if you'll forgive me, the strangest place I've ever been."

"It is," she agreed. "The whole of Ettinsmoor is like that. But you'll find it comfortable, I'm sure. Was all fine for you last night?"

"Yes, it was lovely. It was a hard ride."

"You'll have to tell me about it later."

Orisi put the toast back down. "No offense, but you're a lovely lady, why would you want to hear about that? It was a nasty hard ride all the way from Cair, very treacherous and hardly lovely at all."

She laughed again. "You're not offending my delicate sensibilities, captain," she answered. "And I made the same journey myself once. Therefore I'm curious to hear of other's experiences."

Orisi shook his head. This place was strange and its inhabitants equally so. Nevertheless, breakfast went well. Eating with giants was the oddest part of the whole thing, trying to act like these twenty foot tall looming creatures with everything blown out of proportion was a normal thing was difficult.

When breakfast was done, he followed her lead and climbed down the chair. Then the lady turned to him and offered her hand.

"Now that you are rested and well," she said. "You may come with me and tell me what it is you've come for. People from Narnia never come here, so I am very surprised to see you."

"Naturally," Orisi agreed. He took her hand, and bowed over it respectfully, and this seemed to please her. She nodded with approval, and Orisi felt a swell of peculiar pride, even though what he was doing was nothing but common courtesy. He wondered briefly if this is what the giants felt every time they did something right in front of her, and maybe that's why they were always bowing and calling her lady even though any one of them could step on her and crush her.

"Now, follow me."

He was doing an awful lot of following here. Well, when in Harfang, follow the people who knew where they were going.

The place she took them was not her room, as the giantess had taken him the night before, but instead a magnificent library. It was huge and reached the ceilings, and cold wintry light filtered in from what looked like newly finished windows. Books were shelved in new shelves, tables and chairs were all over, and it looked like the most comfortable and well-lived in place in the whole castle.

She sat down at one of tables and indicated for him to do the same.

"Now, Captain Orisi," she began. "Do tell me of why you came and how your journey was."

Now Orisi was in his element. None of these ridiculous social feasts…he never attended banquets are Cair or anywhere else. He was a military man, and it didn't matter if this was a lady in front of him or the most honorable centaur in the land. He had to give a report, and that he did.

"There have been a series of incidents down on the Shribble where it borders Narnia. Some incidents close to Marsh-wiggle territories and some further, but either way, all around that area." He went on to tell her about the giants attacking both Orisi's patrols as well as the Stags and the other people who lived out in that area. The attacks had been growing bolder and more vicious lately, and they all had good reason to believe it wasn't the wild giants near the gorge but some other giants. And the only other place people knew that giants lived was Harfang, so the king took Orisi, captain of the border patrols, and sent him off to Harfang to find out what was going on.

The lady folded her hands in front of her and rested her fingers on her lips, listening intently. Finally at the end she nodded gravely.

"I see your concern, captain," she said. "And I must share mine with you as well. I had no idea that any giants from here were going that far south. I thought they all stayed at least north of the giants' bridge, and kept far away from Marsh-wiggle territory."

"Surely you know that they ate talking Beasts," Orisi said with not a little of his disgust showing. "Since you must dine here every night."

She rested her hands on the table. "I know they do that," she affirmed. "But it is part of their culture and the way they are. They've been eating talking Beasts since…oh, for hundreds of years, by now. It would not be right of me to impose my own morals on these creatures simply because I think differently than they do. I allow them to eat the Talking Beasts, though I never partake in the eating myself." She shuddered. "I can't imagine how they do that. But once again, they aren't me. It doesn't bother them." She gave a small shrug. "I don't know what to tell you, captain. I'm sorry so many lives of your Narnians have been harmed. But I can't just tell them to stop doing it."

"Why not? They seem like they'll listen to whatever you say."

"Oh, they will and they do. But I do not surmise to change their entire culture just because I disagree with it. Captain, I am trying to build on their culture, not destroy it. If you know nothing else of me, know that."

"However those creatures are citizens of Narnia, not only Talking Beasts. By these giants here killing them without a thought, that is very near a declaration of war on Narnia."

The lady's face grew serious then.

"I do not want that," she said.

"Then…well, I was only sent here to find out what was going on. It is your giants, then?"

"It is. But I thought nothing of it. After all, they weren't eating these creatures while in Narnian territory, were they?"

"No." Orisi admitted. "But there's…really not a very clear definition of where Narnia ends and where Ettinsmoor begins."

"Then that is a problem." She said, and Orisi agreed. "There's one of the problems we have to fix. I think that is, in truth, the main problem…a lack of borders. If we had one, then I would be able to tell my giants where they cannot go past, and the same with the citizens of Narnia. Is this not true?"

"It is."

"Then borders must be defined,"

"Yes. And there is also a question of weapons. I've been engaged in several fights with those giants of yours, and they have weapons that are like our own, only much larger. I didn't think giants were capable of making weapons like that, and I myself am curious." The king wasn't, but the king was a ruler and not as much a military man as Orisi was.

Now she smiled. "One would believe that, wouldn't they? That's not the only thing they are capable of making. You'd be surprised what these giants can do. I am often surprised, and I live with them each day."

"What brought you to do that? Live with giants, I mean." Orisi knew he was getting personal, but he knew enough noble ladies in his life to know that this was a strange place for one of them to be.

She shrugged again. "Circumstance," she said simply. "Fate. This is the path my gods have chosen for me, and it is my duty to follow this path, no matter how strange it may be. It is all part of the pattern."

"Your gods? You're not from Narnia?"

"No."

He wanted to ask where, but had the feeling that it wouldn't be polite. She was a nice lady…courteous and noble, willing to discuss things…everything a good lady should have. But there was something about her that unsettled him and made him very glad he would be leaving soon.

"Your giants said you've been waiting for someone from Narnia."

"I have."

"Why is that?"

This time she looked slightly past him, and absently twirled a curl of hair around her finger. When she spoke again, each word was carefully chosen. "I have not been to Narnia in a very long time. I was hoping that…someone from Narnia would find their way here and bring me news. Tell me of how it is there, and…yes." There was the briefest of pauses. "And it is terribly nice to have someone here who is at least my height, for one gets awfully tired of looking up all the time at faces thirty times the size of yours." Now her voice sounded relaxed and sure again, the momentary tension gone. "It's really nothing." She waved her hand dismissively, and Orisi didn't pry any further. "Anyway, that is the truth. I am sorry my giants have done that to your people. I will be more than willing to offer compensation, if you'll take it."

"Compensation?" Orisi raised an eyebrow. "For all those who have died, you're offering payment?"

"Captain, there is really nothing I can do about those who have died. I may be a healer, but I can't bring the dead back to life."

"I know. Sorry."

"You're frustrated. I understand. It's a terrible shame when we lose people dear to us."

"I didn't know any of them." Orisi said with a shrug. "But the queen was close friends with the Stags who died."

"Ah. They were the queen's." Her face was unreadable, but it was clear from her tone of voice that she felt no sympathy for them now. "Well. Nevertheless. There needs to be borders or no one is going to know anything and end up blaming everyone else. What is to be done with that?"

Orisi cleared his throat. "I don't know, sorry to say," he admitted. "The king only sent me here to find out what was going on, not make treaties or anything. That's best left for the king himself, actually. I'll…I should go back and tell him and see what he says."

"Tell him I am willing to discuss any treaties he may want."

"I'll do that." Orisi stood up and adjusted his cloak.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?" she asked, rising with him.

"Well…I came to do what I had to do, so I'm assuming I am."

"Oh, don't!" she shook her head. "You can stay here until you're fully rested, there's no need for you to return immediately. Your horse isn't rested, though perhaps if you'd wish you may take one of my horses. Believe me, I have horses to spare. There's plenty of room here for you to stay yet, and your clothes are finished."

"Clothes? What clothes?"

"Yours are all torn and dirty from all that time on the road," she explained. "I'm having the giants make you some new ones. By all means, you may stay a few days more."

Orisi blinked. "Well, thank you for your hospitality."

"It's hardly a problem. It's nice having company, we so rarely do."

Orisi still wanted to be on his way now, but there was something in the lady's manner that made him feel almost obliged to stay. It must be horrid, being the only person in the whole castle under ten feet, even if everyone ran around and obeyed everything you said. She looked at him expectantly, with a small and perhaps hopeful smile on her lips.

"I'll stay for a few days," Orisi said finally.

"Thank you! This is marvelous. Truly, it is. I've been away from Narnia for so long and I would love to hear more about it."

"Not much happens," Orisi shrugged. It didn't. There was just everyday life, and that wasn't that interesting. "Where'd you live? When did you leave?"

"Six years ago," she said. "And I lived for a little while in Cair Paravel. I was a healer's apprentice."

"An honorable profession."

"It was. Come, walk with me now, your clothes should be near ready. I think I'll show you the weaving room. Be glad, you're the first true Narnian to see it."

Weaving room? Oh well, he'd have interesting stories to tell back home before he decided to move south where it was warmer. Now rested, he wasn't quite about to give up his job as a palace guard, but he was still thinking about it.

If he hadn't been following the lady through Harfang, he would have easily gotten lost. Every corridor looked alike except for their tapestries.

"Why'd you decide to leave Cair Paravel? It's a lovely place to live and I can't imagine leaving voluntarily."

"It is nice," she agreed, but didn't answer his question. "You must be cold. It is far warmer where you live,"

"It's freezing here. I don't know how anyone could live here all the time. No offense, I just don't like the cold."

"None taken, and neither do I. If I could take all of Harfang and move it far to the south, I would do that. I lived most of my life in a tropical place, so this place here…all rocks and snow…don't care for it much. But, such is life, isn't it? Take what you are chosen. Such is the tapestry woven." She sounded almost like she was reciting from a text, and Orisi wondered what strange religion she lived by.

"Couldn't agree more," Orisi grumbled. "I'm just doing my job and patrolling and the king goes ahead and sends me off to Harfang. Unarmed. It's alright, Orisi, we don't want them to think we're attacking them." He said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "And then I'd get eaten. Sorry, Orisi, you've just been eaten. Didn't expect that, certainly not."

She laughed. "No one eats people here anymore," she said with a grin. "At least I hope not. Well, as long as I've been here, no one has eaten any person, so no fear there. Though that wasn't very smart of your king."

"He's a good king, don't get me wrong. Just…well, I don't want to be unarmed in Harfang. That's all."

"It's understandable. I didn't have any weapons on me when I arrived. But it worked out, and see, so does this. Don't worry, captain. Harfang isn't as uncivilized as we may lead you to believe."

"I'm seeing that now. Real castle you got here, isn't it? So what, is all Ettinsmoor loyal to Harfang?"

She nodded. "Now it is. There's not much out on the moor, but what is there is under our law."

"Never used to be."

"No, it didn't. I brought it all under Harfang."

"Why?"

"I needed a kingdom," she replied vaguely. "Anyway, look, here we are. This is the weaving room, I think Karlin and Morpa are working on something right now." The doors looked too heavy to push open, and…much to his surprise…she didn't. She reached into an odd looking belt pouch she wore around her waist, took some powder out of it, rubbed it on her palms and said some strange and exotic sounding word, and then pushed on the doors. They opened without a problem.

The hairs on the back of Orisi's neck rose.

People saying strange words and making things happen was magic. That woman used magic.

That was what made Orisi so unsettled when he spoke with her. She seemed like a nice enough lady…bit strange, of course, to be living with giants and ruling the north for whatever reason, bit secretive, but otherwise nice. Except she did _magic._ He rubbed his hands on his arms to stop the goosebumps. Like most Narnians, he feared magic used by women. Witches…

"What's wrong?" she turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing. Sorry, lady, nothing, I'm fine."

She dusted her hands off on her skirt. "I've seen that look before. And I assure you that I am no witch and do not use my magic to harm people. I was a healer's apprentice and that's all I use it for…healing and whatever things I need to do around the castle that it is nearly impossible to do when you're not a giant. So you may stop looking so afraid."

Orisi was taken aback and immediately apologized and bowed again. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it."

"None of them ever do," she said darkly, and walked through the door without turning back to wait for him.

Orisi followed after her into the weaving room. Two giants were seated at separate looms and were busy…well, weaving. There was a heap of blue cloth on the floor that looked of a very good quality. The giants were operating the enormous looms with ease. Giants…weaving. This had to be the strangest sight of all. No one would believe that back home when he told them.

"This is the weaving room," she said shortly. "Here, all manner of cloth is made. Most of what you see in Harfang is made here. All my clothes are made here, and so will yours be."

Orisi could see she was offended by his earlier fear of magic. "Lady," he said, still not knowing her name. She showed no indication to share it. "I did not mean to offend you. We're naturally afraid of magic, but every person is different. I am sure you are not a witch. Forgive my initial suspicion."

She turned around and moved towards him, and much to his surprise took his chin in her hands and looked at him with deep scrutiny, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. Then she released him and smiled.

"You do mean it," she said. "Thank you, Captain Orisi. That means a lot to me, I'll have you know."

"Well…thank you, I guess." he smiled in return. "Would I be so rude if I were to ask your name?"

She hesitated. "Sara," she said finally. "That's all you need to know. Here," she took a piece of cloth and handed it to him. It felt soft in his hands, and…surprisingly well made.

"Giants make all of this?"

"Everything here. The weapons and the cloth is ours, and I do a little with my plants…there are four plants found in Ettinsmoor that can't be found anywhere else in Narnia. I know I can't replace those who died, but I offer you…" she pointed to a box of cloth in the corner. It was already all tied up with a ribbon. "I'll offer you that there, as well as a few special knives I have made. It's not much, but it's all I have to offer you. We don't use money here."

"Thank…thank you," he said, unsure of what else to say. He was a captain, not a tradesman.

"It's the least I can do."

"How'd you ever manage to get giants to weave? The idea is ridiculous." But the two giants weaving showed beamed down at him and looked quite happy in their work.

She reached up and touched her hair. "They liked to braid my hair," she said, shaking her head fondly at the memory. "I'm a healer and deal with plants all my life…that's the way it's done in my world. All our magic is done through plants first, so we are connected to the world in that way. They would see all my plants lying around my room, and the little giants would bring me more and think that they were helping. Some of them liked to braid the stalks of the plants into my hair when they were bored. They were young, small giants, so I let them. Then I figured…if they can do this, there's no reason they can't weave anything else, right? And…there you go." She indicated the two looms. "Now they can weave. If you take the time to teach, they learn."

"Amazing."

"You should have seen the way the castle was when I arrived. Two different Harfangs, practically. But they learn."

They did learn, Orisi mused. He couldn't fathom giants learning and being successful, but here they were.

"Come, I will show you my horses, in case you may want one of mine instead of yours. By all means, you can have one."

Orisi then had to follow her out to the stables, and there was still a long day ahead to see the rest of Harfang.

* * *

The clothes they made for Orisi were surprisingly fine. This lady had taught them a lot about weaving…or, as she put it, built upon their natural talents. Before Orisi left, she'd made sure to give him an adequate supply of cloth, clothes, and weapons, saying it was her compensation for the deaths and that she greatly regretted them. In return, Orisi was going to mention the border issue with the king and maybe something would be worked out that way. He set out with his horse surprisingly docile and well-cared for, cleaned, and ready for the long ride home. 

When Orisi finally returned to Narnia, he was immediately pelted with questions. His own patrol wanted to know everything about the wild giants, all about Harfang and how it was so far north. Orisi answered the questions the best he could…he was a simple man and not one to recall intricate details of everything.

The weapons were well received with his patrol. The cloth they couldn't care less about, but when he brought it back to the castle, all the women were fascinated.

He gave the king a full report of everything he saw there. The king was skeptical at first. It was only natural, because everything Orisi was saying wasn't making much sense. But after long discussions, the king finally accepted Orisi's facts. He was equally mystified with this lady, and everyone was impressed by the quality of the goods.

By the end of that month, the king decided that, if anything was to be officially done, they would need to speak with this lady herself. That was the only way they could really bring about border and trade agreements. The king couldn't go to Harfang, it was too far away and he was still needed here. The only thing then would be to invite Harfang's mysterious lady to Cair to discuss these issues.

The king sent out a letter inviting her to the castle to talk. He sent it out early with a messenger bird, hoping it would get there without running into any terrible snowstorms like Orisi did. He sent it out with the hopes that once this was done, there'd be a steady trade in a virtually unknown country and no more problems with Harfang giants harming people from Narnia.

And so the bird took off and flew across its familiar homeland of Narnia to the unfamiliar terrain of Ettinsmoor.

* * *

Sara stood on the highest tower, a place she had come to like, and watched as Orisi rode off on his horse with all that she gave him tied around it. It would be hard going with that much, but the horse could handle it. 

The captain of few words was the first Narnian she had talked to in six years.

She marked six years, six Narnian years, on her calendar. That was seventy-two years back in Mayharran.

Hylaea would have long graduated and, if she was still alive, would be making cookies for her grandchildren and showing them around the town, watching them as they headed off to school, if she was still in Mayharran at all and hadn't moved on to bigger and better things, maybe even have become magistrate herself. Sara's parents were long dead, leaving only three brothers behind to carry on the name of Inari.

She doubted anyone remembered her back home. Her name most likely became an accident, something that happened to someone years ago, a terrible misfortune born of unknown causes that made a second year disappear into another world and was never heard from again. Even the name of her world was foreign now…Mayharran. A strange name in a language she used to speak, a country of humid air and palm trees where the breeze blew warm all year long. The name of Inari only through her brothers, and perhaps their children…and Sarasael, just another common name in Mayharran. The giants could never pronounce it. The few times she had tried to convince them to call her something _other _thank Lady, they'd not been able to wrap their clumsy tongues around the light sounds of her native language, and the best she they could manage was Sara.

Sometimes it seemed like nothing but a dream, even though she lived there for sixteen years. Did it exist? How could she prove that it existed when she had no proof? Her book…that no one could read besides herself because of its magic, that was one thing. Not her powders, she made them all herself. And not her memories…no one trusted memories. She had no proof, only the faint lingering remembrances of Hylaea's voice or her brother acting like an idiot.

It could have been a dream. It was easy to convince herself of that, standing up here on the balcony with the whole of Ettinsmoor fading off into the distance. Here there were only rocks and snow and the bitter cold of winter that found its way into every crack and crevice. No place could have been more different from Mayharran than Harfang, and she had spent the last six years in Harfang. Maybe her world was nothing more than a dream. Maybe this Ettinsmoor was all that existed.

Maybe even Narnia was…

Narnia, with Nirisath's firm commands and lectures, with the roar of the river as it went past, with genuine Talking Beasts and strange plants and a sense of community through the whole country. The only Talking Beasts she even came close to were the ones the giants killed and brought home. It was just as easy to forget Narnia as it was Mayharran. The safety of Rilian's embrace, his blue eyes and his laugh too could have been nothing more than a memory she conjured up herself, something to amuse herself in the long winters here. An image, a projection of safety and love of someone like her in a place where she was the only one.

Then Orisi came, bundled up in lays fur and cloak, shivering and grumpy against the cold, banging on the door one day after a snowstorm. He came in and stood at her level, he spoke with the inflection of Cair Paravel in his voice, and sounded every bit the honest Narnian.

Six years had passed. Six years without notice, only the daily life here and passing of the seasons showing that any time had passed at all. There was nothing but Harfang.

Then Orisi had left. She stood on the balcony and watched him leave and bring her ultimatums back to the king. What would happen next? The king would perhaps believe her and try to discuss terms of borders. Then she would really establish Harfang, as she had been trying to do for so long. Strange, her cleaning of the country did nothing…it was only the giants' brutish ways of killing Talking Beasts that brought them any notice at all.

Oh, but it was something. She was for the moment even grateful of the fact that she hadn't managed to break that habit of theirs. It got them noticed. It brought her someone from Narnia again.

Orisi didn't stay long, but it was a glorious few days that he did. Finally she had real, civilized company from a country she admitted she did admire, despite all that happened. Their country was loyal to their subjects and wanting to care the best for them. It was a whole country but had the same love and togetherness as a small community had. That alone was impressive. There was little about Narnia that wasn't. She had talked to him and felt more certain of herself than before. He was clearly mystified, and she didn't blame him…ladies of any kind wouldn't put themselves in the company of giants. But this is what her gods meant for her.

They'd kept their promise and sent her someone from Narnia. It seemed as if those six years were finally paying off. There was notice. There was hope…

She had Narnia's recognition. Now all she needed was their respect.

But she was close. Gods above, she really was. It wasn't a wasted six years. It wasn't a dream.

She spent the next few weeks in Harfang, continuing business as usual, until one day when a messenger bird arrived at her tower. She wasn't in it at the time, but one of her giants informed her of it and also said, with much pride, that he didn't eat the bird.

She untied the string that held the letter to the bird's leg with trembling fingers. It was written on fine parchment and tied with equally fine string, a smooth satin ribbon. She gently unfolded the paper, for a minute not even daring to read it.

But no. She was above such things. Perhaps when she was seventeen she'd be afraid to read a paper like this. But she was twenty-three and had spent six years living among wild creatures and still retained her dignity. This was a formal letter and she would read it as such.

_To the most honorable Lady of Harfang,_

_It has been brought to my attention that there is much to discuss in terms of the relations between our two countries. Captain Orisi has spoken to me of your wishes to confirm borders and trade relations, and I wholeheartedly agree. It would be best if we met in person in order to secure these relations so we may have the best possible outcome for both parties in question. I invite you to Cair Paravel, if you are able to make it, as soon as possible, so we may talk. Send this bird back with your response, if that is agreeable with you._

_In good faith,_

_Caspian X_

She folded up the letter, waited a minute, and then read it again. It still said the same thing…it wasn't like old enchanted letters where the words would change or disappear as soon as the person it was sent to read it.

She ran her finger over the creases at the edge of the letter. He was inviting her to Cair Paravel. The irony of that registered somewhere in the back of her mind…King Caspian, the same person who had forced her out years ago, was now inviting her back. Of course he didn't know who she was, but still.

Wasn't this what she wanted?

Of course it was. She wrote back almost immediately, trying to keep her handwriting as neat as possible as to not show her true feeling of elation. She was being called back as a guest. Her work had truly paid off.

At the same time, she felt uneasy. It had been so long since she was there last, what would it be like going back? Would anyone recognize her? She knew she didn't look the same. Should she go see Nirisath? Would Nirisath…was she still alive? Or had she died, all those years ago, foolishly trying to defend an apprentice who didn't deserve it? Many times in the darkest of Sara's dreams, at night when there was no one in the room but herself and the fire had gone out and the northern cold seeped into the stones, she could see Nirisath's face and see the hand of Kaera, the Tahalset god of death, with a small and vicious smirk taking the naiad's hand and leading her away.

Naturally it would feel like this. It was a strange homecoming altogether, if it could even be called a homecoming. She left as Sarasael Inari, apprentice to Nirisath the healer, the terrified girl from another world who everyone thought was a witch.

That was six years ago. Now she was returning as the mysterious Lady of Harfang, to talk about her country…her country! And its relations with Narnia itself. And perhaps she would see Rilian again…then…then perhaps…

No sense thinking about these things now. There would be plenty of time along the way. And maybe in the end he would take her hand and kiss it all noble and elegant and say that he had waited years for her to come back, and now she had and everything would be ideal, now that she was a real queen.

Gods. That was a possibility now.

She sent the messenger bird back, set all her affairs in order and gave the king and queen her instructions, and left to return to Narnia once more.


	17. Chapter 17

((Ah, chapter seventeen. To say "this chapter gave me problems" would be like looking out in a thunderstorm and going, "oh, I think it's raining a little." This was the first chapter I wrote my very first few months living away at college, about three hours from home, for the first time in my life. Problems? Oh yeah. This chapter took me about two months and I must have written and rewritten it at least half a dozen times, deleted and restarted about five, lamented about its difficulty to nearly all my new college friends and old high school ones, and generally tore my hair out about it. It ended up going down in infamy with said new friends, with them grinning and asking me about "chapter you-know-which" just to watch me bang my head against the wall. When I finished it, I was the happiest person ever.

We've all had those chapters when we've written novels of doom, I'm sure. And now I get to share it with you. Aren't you all excited? Yeah!

And to mysterious eyeball reviewer, you have my thanks for...er...reviewing, and of course for enjoying this story! It makes me endlessly happy to see that you like it. And thanks for the heads-up on errors...I went through this, but if you see anything that I may have missed, let me know so I can correct it. Thanks! And I hope you find your missing eye ;) ))

It was hard riding, but she knew her way across the moor so well by this point that she could have found her way in any weather.

There was the Witch's castle…she passed by as quick as she could, not wanting to remember her time spent there at all. She didn't remember it all that well…just remembered an impossible aching sadness and sense of loss, cold, and mystery. Maybe that's all the Witch's castle ended up to be. That was all the Witch was now…a cold and distant unpleasant memory. That was always the fate of witches.

She tried not to think of anything until she reached the Great River and was riding down the final lengths to Cair Paravel. The trees were bare in the winter weather and the river was icy. It had none of the cheerfulness she could recall during the summer…now there was only the cool chirping of birds that flew overhead and were outlined against the snowy gray clouds. The river never froze, but bits of ice gathered along the edges as the river swept towards the cold ocean. There wasn't anyone outside on this road, no doubt all staying inside to keep away from the wind blowing off the sea.

Gods. What was this going to be like? All of Narnia so far had a strange and vague haunting familiarity, like something out of a novel read long ago and forgotten. She remembered that stream, those rocks, that small town she had passed by in her desperate flight out of Cair Paravel. That was all part of her life, past though it may be…just as distant as her time in Mayharran. Now she was coming back, and part of her was afraid to go back.

She sat atop her horse in front of Cair's gates. Part of her wanted to run back right now…at least in Harfang she knew what to expect. She didn't know what would happen, coming back here again. It was another life she had lived, and now it was as close as the gates that stood in front of her. All the times of being Nirisath's apprentice, before that so far away, now at this moment seemed like barely two weeks ago.

"Madam," said a Beaver, opening the gates for her and bowing politely. She nodded at him and lightly led her horse into a trot.

It was late when she arrived, too late to go straight to the castle as was written. Night was no bother to her, she spent much of her time on the moor at night, and that should have been far more frightening than the well-lit city of Cair Paravel was. But it had been so many years, and vestiges of fear from years ago still clung to her. It meant she was going to have to find a place to stay for the night, something she absolutely didn't want to do. She remembered Marley's apartments and how that was destroyed, and remembered even worse Bormin and Ralfur and the Penguins Inn, washed away in a flood, and her last connection to home destroyed.

Without realizing it, she was leading the horse in the direction of where Nirisath used to live. When she finally did realize it, she pulled sharply on the reins, and the horse snorted in protest.

What was she doing, going back there? She didn't want to go and see an empty lot with nothing but charred ruins and the smell of death, she didn't want to face the fact that Nirisath herself might be dead after all this time. So far the thought was only a nightmare, but to see that nightmare made real; it was enough to make Sara turn and leave Cair Paravel altogether.

But she had to. Face your fears…what sort of queen would be afraid of death?

It would only be a quick visit, just to see if the house was still standing. And…she felt she had to find out something of Nirisath's fate, it wouldn't be right of her to come back to this city without learning at least that, and if Nirisath had died, she would find out where and go and pay her respects to the naiad. As cruel as the giants were, she made sure they never harmed a naiad at all.

She finally found her way to what was left of Nirisath's old house. There was absolutely nothing there that could have ever suggested a naiad once lived there. The lot was empty, except for the grass that was growing, and weeds all over what might have at one time been a fence. The old stable in the back was only mouldy wood now, slowly disintegrating as the years went by. It was an empty lot now, no one else daring to build on the ground where the house once stood. No other healers dared take it up.

Sara got off the horse, giving it a reassuring pat on its nose as she walked through the ruins, the bottom of her long dress getting covered in dust and mold spores. There was absolutely nothing left…the fire had taken it all. There would be no hope of finding anything here. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger…an old habit that she could never get rid of…as she started at the empty space. Here was a place she had once called home…or as close to it as she ever felt.

"Are you lost, miss?"

The voice startled her from her private reverie, and she whirled around to see who it was. It was just an Ostrich, standing on the edge of the overgrown path, and tilting its head in bewilderment at her. The Ostrich ruffled its feathers against the cold and blinked several times as the wind picked up. "I was just going back home and noticed you here," he said. "Not a lot of people hang around this lot at night." The Ostrich looked around and shivered. "It's said to be haunted."

"Haunted?"

"Yes, of course," she noticed that he didn't get any nearer to the lot than he was at the moment. "A lot of places are like that, you know. Places where terrible things happen. They end up haunted by the spirits of all those who died there."

Died. Sara reached up and closed her hands around a silver necklace she wore around her neck. She swallowed hard and tried to disguise her fear by adjusting the necklace. "No one died here, I hope."

"No," the Ostrich replied. "There used to be a healer who lived here. The healer was cursed, that was the terrible shame. She took on a witch for an apprentice…everyone knows what bad luck witches bring. There was a lot of trouble, I think…don't rightly know, I was only born three years ago. But apparently the witch caused a lot of trouble but eventually left, and the healer's house burned down."

"What happened to the healer?"

"She left the city." The Ostrich replied. "That's what everyone says. She got real mad at a whole lot of people, and then left, and no one's seen her since. People still complain about it…my father does all the time. He says she was the best healer Cair Paravel ever had and it was too bad a witch had to come in and ruin it."

Sara's relief at finding Nirisath hadn't died was so great that she was willing to forgive the Ostrich's words. It was just enough to know that the horrible mob hadn't hurt Nirisath and left her alone in front of that horrible burning house to meet her fate. Too often Sara had seen that in her dreams, and sometimes so vividly that the horror of it left her shaking and awake all night until Janile brought her something to drink and the other giants stood guard outside her door until she was able to fall asleep again.

"Where did the healer go?"

"I don't know," the Ostrich shrugged. "I wasn't alive then. You should ask my father if you're that curious. Did you know her?"

"I did. It was a long time ago, though."

The Ostrich fluffed its feathers again in agreement. "But you look lost," he continued. "You look like you've traveled a long way."

"I have." She said, letting go of her necklace. "I have traveled all the way from Harfang to speak with your king. Forgive me for being sidetracked, the healer who once lived here used to be a great friend of mine, and I was hoping she was still here so I could see her again."

The Ostrich's wings flared out and his head snapped back in surprise. "You're the lady of Harfang?"

"Yes, why?"

"The entire city has been talking about you!" the Ostrich said enthusiastically. "They keep telling everyone, oh, you'd better watch out, there's going to be a giant come all the way to the north, coming to sit on us or something."

Sara raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you see," suddenly he looked awkward, and shuffled his feet on the floor. "They thought Captain Orisi was kind of crazy, you know. They said the cold from the north addled his brain and made him think that he had seen a beautiful lady running a castle full of giants and teaching them how to make weapons and weave things. The king sent an invitation but everyone thought that a giant was going to come, you see. A big ugly giantess with bad teeth that was going to sit on us if we didn't comply. No one thought it would be a real lady…forgive me." The Ostrich bowed slightly.

Sara shook her head, a smile on her lips. "Forgiven," she said. "And let me assure you, I have no intention of sitting on any of you. I've just arrived, and it is terribly late and I haven't a place to stay."

"You can stay with me!" the young Ostrich said, looking back at her with wide eyes. "My father always wants company. He complains we never get enough anymore. He'll be so happy to have the actual lady of Harfang stay at our house! It'll be wonderful. You can sleep anywhere you want." He turned and trotted towards where her horse was. The horse snorted and shook its head, then settled back down. "It's not that far from here. It's close to the castle, so you can see the king whenever you want to. Father says it's always important that we be our best for royalty, you know. And everyone wants you to like Narnia. So we have to be hospitable."

"Well, that's very kind of you." replied Sara.

"Come along! It won't take that long." The Ostrich said impatiently, mostly because he was cold and didn't normally stay out this late.

Sara took one last look at the abandoned lot. Nirisath was alive, and that mattered more than anything. Bless you, Nirisath, wherever you are, she thought as she walked down the path. Gods grant you health and safety in all your days, and I promise I will somehow find a way to find you again.

She followed the Ostrich out and mounted her horse again. It was the strangest thing ever to see these Narnians being genuinely hospitable to her. Of course, she knew none of them would recognize her…half the times she didn't even recognize herself. She would look in the mirror and tilt her head to the side and try to figure out what happened to the Mayharran schoolgirl, and wished more than anything that she actually knew. It was so strange, the way time passed…she didn't even know how she changed, only that all of a sudden people like Captain Orisi felt awkward in her presence and would hang on to her every word. What happened to Sarasael the healer's apprentice, she wondered. It was difficult to tell. Perhaps she was left in the gorge with the wild giants, stayed behind to let Sara the Lady of Harfang conquer all the north.

Perhaps it was a good thing that these people didn't know who she was now. It was apparent they hadn't forgotten who she was.

"Here," the Ostrich stopped in front of what looked like more of a stable than a house. It was a quaint little place with a roof and a large open doorway with no door. Inside there were several nests and they looked comfortable even though she wasn't an Ostrich. "Let me go get my father. Father! Father, come quickly, we have a guest, and there's no giants coming to sit on us!" he ran ahead into the house while Sara got off her horse. She stroked Tiendra's nose, and the horse whickered softly. It was tired and needed water, food, and rest. That much was certain.

The older Ostrich came out, looking slightly shorter and more bent than his sprightly son. He squinted in the darkness.

"And who might you be?"

Sara curtsied, something she actually knew how to do now without falling over. "The Lady of Harfang, good sir," she replied. "I have been summoned by the king and come to speak with him. I have traveled far and arrived very late, and have nowhere to stay for the night. Your most gracious son has invited me to stay with you, and I find that a great honor, to be here again…to be here with the people of Narnia."

"Ah," the old Ostrich nodded and gave his son a look of approval. The son looked rather flattered at his father's attention. "The whole city's been talking about you. They say…"

"Your son has told me what they say," she said with a smile. "And really, I find it awfully amusing. Trust me, the giants that I live with would by no means want to come into your city anyway. They'd think all the small people a terrible bother."

"Well, come in! Fletch, go get some water for the horse. How long have you been riding?"

"I started early this morning, and rode through most of the day with only a few breaks. Tiendra is exhausted, I don't want him to die." She glanced back at the horse.

"Tiendra, eh? Odd name for a horse."

"It's a familiar name where I come from."

"Well? Fletch, go help the horse." The older Ostrich nudged his son, and Fletch immediately got to work, taking the horse's reins in his beak and leading it away. Tiendra was reluctant to go at first, having gotten far more used to Sara than she had liked. All that enchantment…it had created a strong bond between horse and rider, even though she hadn't enchanted it in years. She gave it a little nudge on its hindquarters, urging it to go with Fletch.

"Come inside now," said the older Ostrich. "My name is Kel, and it's an honor to have you with us. I can now say I was the first to see the Lady of Harfang," he sounded almost smug at that. Sara couldn't understand why, but she felt oddly flattered. He trotted inside and she followed him.

The house inside was small but cozy. There were two nests close to each other, another one further off, and…well, that was pretty much it. Like most ostriches, they only stayed at their house at night and spent their days outside in the city or the areas nearby.

Kel squinted at the space. "There's not much room here," he said apologetically. "We don't keep beds or anything here. We don't get much visitors." He sighed. "But we're glad to have you. Here, sit down." He extended his neck to indicate the free nest. Sara had never sat in an ostrich nest before, but nothing was strange to her anymore. She sat down and crossed her legs, thankful to be sitting on something comfortable instead of that bloody horse all day long. Six years and knowing how to ride did not make her like horses anymore than she originally had.

"Do you want anything to eat? Here," Kel trotted over to a ledge and leaned his head over, plucking the top off a wicker basket. "There's fresh dragonflies," There was a crunching noise has he took one of the dragonflies out of the basket. "Eh?" he asked, holding it out to her.

"Er…no thank you, I ate before I arrived." She had dinner and it was hours ago in Beruna.

"Mm. Fine." Kel didn't seem to mind, he looked glad to be getting all the best dragonflies for himself. He munched on one and trotted over to his own nest and settled down contentedly. "Come to see the king, have you?"

"Indeed," she replied. "Listen, I was told that you knew a naiad who used to live here…a healer down by the Great River called Nirisath,"

"Nirisath? Ah! Yes!" Kel's head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. "I remember Nirisath. She was a good healer, left the city years ago though, went down south. Didn't want anything more to do with Cair, I heard."

"What else did you hear?"

"Why so curious?" Kel tilted his head.

"She knew Nirisath," said Fletch, coming in and sitting down. It looked like he had a large patch of feathers torn out from one of his wings. Kel and Sara both looked at it, and Fletch fluttered the wing apologetically. "Your horse didn't like me," he said.

"Oh. My apologies." Sara replied. "Here, let me see your wing…did it do a lot of damage? No, come here," she held out both her hands and Fletch trotted over, extending the wing. It didn't look too bad…feathers were torn out and the skin underneath was red and abraded. Sara touched it lightly, and he flinched. "It's a surface wound…he bit you?"

"Yes," Fletch replied. "I was just giving him oats and he just chomped me right in the wing. What did I do wrong? Normally horses like me,"

"Mine don't like most people," she said. "Sorry for that. It was the way they were trained, I'm afraid." She rested her hand on the injury. "It's not too bad. Do you have any aloe? That's the best for infections."

The two Ostriches looked at each other.

"Not really," Fletch responded.

"Oh. Well it is, incase you needed to know. This doesn't look too bad so you won't have to worry. Sorry about my horse."

"Should I find some?"

"No, you'll be fine, trust me. Just keep it in reference for the future, alright?"

"Okay!" Fletch said cheerfully and sat down in his own nest. He was a very optimistic Ostrich. "You know all that? You…"

"Healer?" asked Kel, settling down further.

"I was," Sara admitted. "For a little bit."

"You knew Nirisath, that's why you're asking? One healer to another?"

"Yes, of course," She said. She tried for years but could never get that fact of being a healer out of her blood. She spent an awful lot of time healing giants and felt more at home doing that than anything else she did in Harfang.

"Ah." Kel nodded knowingly. "Well, sorry to say, you've definitely missed her. She left the city years ago."

"I remember the house was destroyed…"

"You do?"

"Well, everyone knew that, it was awfully important news throughout healers. People don't destroy the houses of innocent naiads every day, we were all quite worried." She said quickly.

Kel shook his head. "No, it wasn't good. Well, she lived, her apprentice disappeared…but that makes sense, you know what they all say about witches." Fletch nodded knowingly in agreement. "Nirisath said something to the king, she was really angry, and then she left Cair Paravel and we haven't seen her since. It's too bad, she was a good healer."

Sara nodded. "She was one of the best," she replied absently. "Well I hope she is safe, wherever she is. There ought to be more people like her in this world."

Both nodded, bobbing their heads up and down almost in unison. Sara suddenly felt exhausted, the weeks of hard riding catching up to her in the drowsy warmth of the Ostrich house, the strangeness of being back in Cair Paravel being the worst of all. "Is there perhaps another room where I would be able to wash up? It has been a very long journey," she said.

"Oh! Yes!" Fletch leaped up. "We've been discourteous!" he looked shocked at the prospect of that. Clearly they didn't get many visitors. "Here, let me show you." He led her into another room. All it had was a small basin on the floor. "Sorry. It's not much. We don't get a lot of visitors," he apologized.

"It's fine," she said. "Don't worry about it."

He walked back and left her in privacy. She sat down in front of the basin and sighed, feeling weary enough to fall asleep right there. It had been a long travel, and she wasn't used to it that continuous without the giants there to aid her at least part of the way.

She washed her hands and face and changed for the night. It was too late to do anything more, and slightly awkward in a small basin designed for birds. She really should have gotten a room at an inn somewhere, but the Ostrich was terribly kind, and she couldn't turn him down. And he, like the rest, didn't know her.

All the better. When she became queen, they would look and see a northern ruler marrying their prince, not a healer's apprentice who they called witch. It would be safe for him as well. See, everything was working out. She knew it would.

Kel and Fletch were gracious hosts, despite often finishing each other's sentences and bobbing their heads continuously and agreeing with everything the other said. They were close, Fletch being Kel and his wife's only son, and she had died several years before.

It was awkward sleeping in an Ostrich nest, but it wasn't anything overly unusual for her. At least everything was her size.

The next day, she bid a very thorough farewell to the two Ostriches, thanking them for all their hospitality and promising to repay them for their kindness someday. Tiendra was well taken care of, he looked rested enough to continue the journey, though he was extremely nervous and wouldn't be reassured until she spent a few minutes stroking his nose and calming him down.

Once that was taken care of, she set off for the Castle.

It didn't take very long. The two Ostriches lived close, and before she knew it, she was in front of the great castle gates. The two Jaguars that used to be there were gone, and instead a large Elephant stood in their place.

"Good morning!" The Elephant trumpeted. "What brings you to Cair on a nice day such as this? It's awfully cold, though, isn't it?"

"It's always cold where I'm from," she replied. "I'm here to see the king, I believe he is expecting me."

"Are you the Lady of Harfang?" asked the Elephant. "That's the only person the king wants to see."

She nodded.

"Good! We're all waiting! Go on in." he nudged the gates open with his foot and called inside, "Ranek! We have a visitor!"

A dwarf came shuffling out then, holding a stack of plates in his arms. "A what? Can't you see I'm doing dishes? What do you want anyway?"

The Elephant snorted. "Weren't you charged with bringing the Lady of Harfang to the king?"

"I was but…oh." He peered at Sara over the weight of the plates, which were wobbling precariously in his arms. "We didn't expect you yet. Or I didn't. I was just going to the kitchen…"

Sara dismounted and walked over to the dwarf. "Here, let me get some of those," she took about half the plates, which was easy for her to carry and lightened the dwarf's load considerably.

"Thanks, madam," Ranek said, relief in his voice that he wasn't going to drop them all and embarrass himself. "Your horse will be taken care of. I was taking these plates to the kitchen…won't mind coming with me? I know ladies normally don't do these sort of things…"

"I live with giants," she replied. "I've seen much worse than plates. Trust me."

"Ooh. Giants." Ranek set off across the courtyard with small steps and Sara, for the first time in a very long time, felt tall walking next to him. "Barbaric things, aren't they? Tell me, do they use silverware?"

"Of course. They never used to, but I made them. Trying to give some manners to giants, you know. It takes awhile."

"Oof. Sure does." He nearly ran into a Squirrel who stared at them both. "Well you get my commends, I couldn't have done it. Here's the kitchen." He kicked the door with his feet and it opened, revealing a large, warm, very nice smelling room. There were people moving all through it constantly, shouting orders at each other, plates clanking and spices being shaken and smoke billowing up to the ceiling. "Welcome to the kitchen. Cair's not all like this. Manny, I brought the plates," Ranek staggered across to a tall table by a large sink where a Flamingo took one look at Ranek and then a more critical look at the plates.

"Good, they're clean," he said.

Ranek put the plates on the table and Sara put hers next to them.

"Now come on," Ranek immediately turned and began walking out of the kitchen. Sara wanted to stay a little while longer…she had never seen this part of Cair before. But there were too many people staring at her, and Ranek was hurrying her along through a long hallway and up a flight of stairs. "You're our guest and we're not having you take plates everywhere, sorry about that. Where's the king? Oh, I don't know, don't think he's here. Windchaser?"

A Hawk that was perched on the windowsill fluttered its wings at them and glared.

"What is it now, Ranek?" the Hawk's voice was curt and businesslike and annoyed at being disrupted from its deep musings.

"The king has to be alerted that his guest is here," Ranek said, stuffing his hands into his pockets at the Hawk's fierce gaze. Even Sara felt slightly intimidated. Windchaser examined her closely, then gave a slight ruffle of his tail feathers to indicate he was paying attention at all.

"Oh yes. King wants to see you, yes? I'll tell him." Without another word, the Hawk spread his wings and flew on down the hall.

"He's always that way," Ranek apologized. "Don't mind him,"

She wanted to say, you citizens of Cair Paravel apologize for everything, Rilian used to do it too. The thought crossed her mind and made her smile vaguely.

Windchaser flew back a short while later, alighting back on the window sill he was before. "The king is coming," he said, then turned to look back outside.

"Make way for King Caspian! Quickly now!" a voice shouted down the hall. The king came around the corner, looking older and far more tired than Sara had remembered. He was dressed resplendently, a long blue cloak trailing from his shoulders. His hair, now mostly grey, was swept back away from his head, and the crown of burnished gold glinted in the summer light.

He saw her and smiled, and there was nothing malicious in his looks. He bowed slightly to her.

"Good afternoon, my lady. I hope I find you well." He said, his voice deeper than she remembered it.

"It's wonderful," she replied with a courteous smile. "It is very different from what I am used to."

"Did you just arrive today?"

"No, last night. I stayed with a pair of Ostriches that lived close to here. Fletch and Kel, if you've heard anything of them?"

"I've heard their names…how late? You could have come here, we would have let you in for the night, no matter how late it was. Cair Paravel never sleeps. And it is awkward staying with Ostriches…did they offer you any bugs?"

"Dragonflies," she replied.

The king nodded sympathetically. "That's why it's not preferable to stay with them. At least they didn't offer you lizards."

"They thought I was going to sit on them," she informed him.

"Pardon?"

"For some reason that is completely beyond my comprehension," she continued as the king started walking and she followed. "Everyone here seems to be under the belief that I am a giantess coming to sit on Cair until my demands are met." She raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason for this?"

The king actually looked embarrassed. "Partially my fault," he admitted. "If you'll accept my apologies. Captain Orisi returned and he was acting quite oddly. He'd been away longer than we thought, and at first…I was worried he wasn't coming back. It's a long ride out there…I've never made the trip myself but it's far, I know. And after that storm…it was harsh enough here, it rained for days. I'm gathering there was a lot of snow by you?"

"A blizzard," Sara replied. "Absolutely dreadful. I'm surprised he made it to my castle alive at all."

"That's what made us all so worried. We didn't hear anything, and then he returned very enthusiastically, telling us all a story of an organized castle of giants and a beautiful lady who runs it, and she apologized for the death of my people…the whole story he told us sounded a bit outlandish, to tell you the truth. I invited you here out of courtesy…Orisi mentioned something about trade. I found it all a bit preposterous, but…well, here you are, and you're obviously not a giant, and I am deeply sorry for my initial misgivings." He finished gravely. Sara frowned and looked at him, but noticed that he was genuinely sorry. He was truthful in what he was saying. Perhaps she had misjudged him all those years before?

"It is understandable." She replied. "Is Captain Orisi anywhere around here?"

"Yes, I believe he's staying in the south wing with a few of his patrol. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes…he was a very good guest at my castle, and I was surprised at that. I assumed Narnians wouldn't be very receptive to Harfang."

"Most wouldn't be. Here…" they had reached a lovely room, a conservatory that opened up into a balcony. Outside, the rocky shore and the ocean that spread out into the distance. The windows were open and a cold, salty breeze blew in, ruffling the blue curtains that adored the large open windows. There was a large table with several plush couches nearby. There was tea on the table already, and a large map on the far wall.

"I know it's cold in here," the king said, looking critically at the windows. "I don't know who opened the windows. This is the map room, that's the best map in the castle. It's the only complete one I have of the entire world…down into Calormen and all the way out to the eastern sea. I'll go get Captain Orisi, he should be present anyway. Help yourself to tea and I'll be back as soon as possible." He gave another courteous bow and left her.

She went over to the window and stared out the balcony at the vast sea that stretched out before her. She'd never seen this part of Cair, and it was very exciting. To stand there and see the world looking so large…she took a deep breath of the salty air, and the possibilities felt unlimited. There was an entire world out there, larger than Cair and even larger than Harfang. You couldn't see the ocean from where she was. But here…out that way was the great Eastern Ocean, full of mysterious and unknown islands that she only heard stories about from Rilian. It lead into Aslan's country, he said. She'd never known an Aslan but if he was anything like Yarrin, he'd be great indeed. And to the west, what was there? She'd never been there.

She never even thought of it. Perhaps it was the refreshing air, so different from Ettinsmoor's dry cold, but she felt inspired to do something. Now what that was, she didn't quite know…she was just suddenly filled by an odd restlessness, a discontent with merely staying in Harfang and living out her days there. There was so much more of the world still to see, down in the deserts of Calormen perhaps, or maybe they had tropical islands here too, reminiscent of her warm and comfortable home. It seemed so much from here, which was strange considering how vast Ettinsmoor always was. Maybe it was the fact that this was Cair Paravel, the first real city she had seen in Narnia. And as lovely as she could try and make Harfang, it could never compare to this city and castle, which had grown and flourished for so many years.

It didn't seem so impossible now, all that she was doing. Such was the tapestry woven, and here she was, back nearly where she started. It was a completely ridiculous plan she thought up six years ago, while standing outside in front of a horse that was snorting and stamping and generally scaring the wits out of her, damn horses. Become a queen and you can marry the prince. Here, though, it didn't seem so ridiculous after all. Here it seemed…possible.

"My lady?"

She turned around. The king was standing there with Orisi, who was looking a lot less scruffy than when he had showed up at her castle.

"Orisi!" she exclaimed, strangely glad to see him. "I hear they're calling you crazy. What sort of nonsense is that?"

Orisi gave an extremely relieved smile at seeing her again. Impulsively she walked over and embraced him, and he flushed a light shade of red.

"Yeah, that's what they're saying," he said awkwardly.

"Absolutely ridiculous," she answered. "Well if it helps any, the entire city thinks I'm a giantess coming to sit on you all. I don't think I can quite manage that extraordinary feat, really."

Orisi laughed. "Yeah, that'd be difficult. Can't see you much sitting on people, no."

"Glad you think so. Has it been very difficult, coming home like this? I'll talk to anyone who thinks you're crazy."

"Good idea," Orisi agreed, and sat down on one of the large couches. "Do you like Cair so far? I remember you saying you'd been here before."

Sara didn't move. Had she really said that? Yes, she mentioned it to him, once, and that was it. How did he remember it? Now the king was looking curiously at her.

She forced a smile onto her face. "Just once, in passing," she replied, which was partly the truth. "On my way to Ettinsmoor I stopped here for a few days," she said to the king, nodding. "But not for very long, and it has been many years since I was here last."

The king accepted that and went over to the table, pouring out three cups of tea.

"How long ago was that?" he asked.

"Eight years," she lied.

"Ah. Nevermind, then." He handed her the tea and Orisi as well. She sat down with Orisi, feeling more comfortable with him, and still slightly intimidated by the king. They were equals now, but it was hard to get rid of that feeling…she remembered when she first saw him, how he gave her such a curious and slightly disapproving look that she felt every bit the ridiculous awkward schoolgirl she had been back then. "You looked vaguely familiar." The king shook his head. "But nevermind now. So how long have you lived in Harfang? Longer than eight years?"

"Only six." There she couldn't lie. "I travel a lot, and Harfang just…I fell in with them by accident and it worked out in a very odd way."

"Very odd indeed. I can't imagine why any noble lady would want to stay in the company of such crude giants…no offense."

"They're not as bad as they once were," she said wryly, taking a sip of the hot tea. It didn't have any sugar in it, and she felt too strange here in the company of the king to ask.

"Captain Orisi tells me you want to negotiate borders," the king continued. "And I think that is a very good idea. You see, up until Orisi came back and told us about your Harfang, we had no idea that there was any civilization that far north. It was a mystery to us why the giants were moving so close to our area…but there have never been any borders and no need for them. The great King Peter hundreds of years ago forced all the giants north and we hadn't heard anything since." He shook his head. "But since you're obviously there and the giants aren't as uncivilized as I thought. There is a definitely need to establish borders and perhaps even trade…your giants made that cloth?"

"All of it," she affirmed. "I taught them myself."

The king looked intrigued by that prospect, so she told him.

The day wore on, and it went by quicker than Sara had imagined. The king was fascinated by her northern exploits when she told him of her conquering of the wild giants and her adventures trying to civilize the giants of Harfang. He laughed especially at her first ventures trying to get them to actually eat with silverware, which proved…well, she was glad it was over with and she'd never have to do it again.

The border agreements went surprisingly well. It was soon set that anything north of the Shribble was considered Ettinsmoor territory, and all south including the Marsh-wiggle territory belonged to Narnia. As long as they stayed on their side of the Shribble, they would be unharmed. The same went for any other Narnian that wandered too far over the river…Sara made a point saying that if now that the borders were established any Narnians came to Ettinsmoor and were eaten, she was not responsible for them. Likewise if any giants became too confident and swaggered into Narnia, they would be killed.

Trade was a little more difficult to establish and took longer, but by the end of the day that too was successful. Finally there were borders and a trade between Narnia and Harfang, and Sara was feeling thoroughly successful and confident with how well the day went. She didn't feel as intimidated by the king anymore, though that slight fear was still there in the back of her mind. By the time the sun set, everything was firmly established, and Sara felt she was considered truly a lady. It was marvelous.

Later, towards dinner, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," the king said. "We're nearly done here."

The door opened and the queen entered. She hadn't aged a day past the way she looked the last time Sara had seen her. Maybe it was the mark of being a star's daughter, but it was somewhat disconcerting.

"I was just letting you know that dinner is nearly ready," she said. "And you've been in here all day. Is it all that important? Oh, and welcome to Cair Paravel, dear," the queen said graciously to Sara. She turned to smile at her, and her and the queen's eyes met. "We're honored…" the queen paused, and then shook her head. "We're honored to have you." She turned to look at the other two and beckoned for them to come. "We have to be there, you know. They can't start without us."

"I know, I know." The king said. And behind him Orisi nodded vigorously, and Sara had to hide a smile. They both stood up and so did she, and they all followed the queen out the door for dinner.

By the time they arrived at the dining hall, most of the guests had already arrived. The tables were filled, and the largest table had four empty chairs in the front. Sara figured she would just sit in the back, but apparently the king and queen did not think the same thing. The queen lay a hand on her arm and guided her to the front of the table where the fourth chair was, with them.

"You're our guest," the queen said. "You've come far from Harfang and we've never had anyone that far north come to see us. You deserve a place of honor with us tonight." She said graciously. The king sat down and the queen next to him. Then the queen glared with irritation at the empty chair next to her. "Where is Rilian? He's late, he should be here by now." She said, crossing her arms with a look that said that this happened quite often. Everyone in the hall was too busy talking among themselves to notice, and the queen looked happy for that. When no one showed up for another minute, the queen looked even more annoyed. "Where is that dratted boy? We have company and he…"

"I'm late! I know, mother, stop giving me that look."

The prince came from an otherwise unnoticed door in the front of the banquet hall, close to where the head of the table was. It was a rather inconspicuous door and Sara wouldn't have noticed it at all if she hadn't seen it used.

"And what are you doing, that makes you late for important banquets?"

"I'm just busy, mother, really. There was a parliament of Owls and they wanted me to attend." He answered lightly, as if there was not the least problem in the world with this.

"The parliament of Owls isn't nearly as important as this, they meet all the time, banquets like this are rare. Can't you try and stop doing that, running around to all the little Narnian conferences? They don't need notice, they've managed fine on their own."

"The parliament lost three members this week who went to live in the Shuddering Wood, that's considered a problem when two had high standings…"

"Can we not argue about this now?" the king interrupted. "There's too much to do. Rilian, I'd like you to meet our guest. This is the Lady of Harfang, she's come all the way to Ettinsmoor to talk with us." The queen put a hand on Sara's shoulder.

"Oh! Good evening, lady," he turned his attention to her and gave the slightest bow. Sara froze, not moving an inch, not knowing what to do now that the time had finally arrived.

It was only six years, but people change a lot in six years. He was taller and had broader shoulders, and his face had lost that innocent idealistic young expression and taken on a more serious noble one, one full of responsibility. His fair hair still fell in that odd way and his eyes were still blue, his voice deeper, and she knew that if she had stayed away even longer than this she'd still recognize him when she saw him again.

"Good evening," she finally managed to say. He was staring, and she felt extremely self conscious. Did she look ridiculous? Did he even recognize her? No, she doubted that. She didn't look the same as she had six years ago. And this was a formal setting, he'd never seen her before in one of those. Just panicking, he'd seen her do that an awful lot. She held out her hand to shake in greeting, but to her surprise he took her hand and kissed it lightly. Oh gods, that was a formality here, they all did that with noble ladies. Still, she nearly stopped breathing then and there…it was as if those six years hadn't happened at all, and she could feel the warmth of his hand on hers and it was ridiculous, she was sure she was flushing, just the damn thing to do in the middle of a court full of people.

He wasn't a dream. She'd wondered that so often, for it was difficult to think anything else in the barren land of Ettinsmoor. But he wasn't, he was still standing there, looking politely at her and slightly out of breath from running all the way to here from wherever the parliament of Owls was being held. She straightened and tried to look as dignified and stately as possible, though it was difficult now, with all those damn memories falling back into her mind with alarming rate, from the moment they first met, those nights riding in the dark, all those other times they'd spent together talking of nothing but what they had planned for the future and for each other. Six years hadn't changed anything.

The king and queen sat and Rilian did the same, and she had to sit next to him. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but put his elbow on the chair and rested his chin in his hands, and was staring off at the crowd obviously not thinking much of this party and wanting to get back to his more important tasks.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the king announced, and when he spoke, everyone turned to listen. "We have a very honoured guest here tonight, many of you already knew of her coming. May I present the Lady of Harfang, who traveled all the way from Ettinsmoor to stay with us southern folk for the night." The king indicated her and she smiled, giving a slight wave to the people watching. They were all staring, and some were smiling, others looking relieved. Thankfully the food was brought out before anything else could be said, and she was grateful for that. Tired of the bloody staring.

"They were expecting a giantess," she heard Rilian say from next to her. The sound of his voice startled her and she jumped, unaccustomed to hearing it again after so long. He was looking at her now, still not very interested, but the other option seemed to be being introduced to a Jaguar from Beruna and he had no interest in that. "Hence the stares." He finished.

"Ah. Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm not surprised. It's a comment I've gotten numerous times since I've arrived. Honestly, if one more person thinks I'm coming to sit on them, I really _will _sit on them."

Yarrin blessed, there she went again. Just saying whatever the hell came to her mind, even if it was completely ridiculous. She just couldn't help it, seeing him again made her feel giddy and wonderful and at the same time completely out of place.

But to her surprise, he laughed. "I'd imagine so," he said in agreement. "Personally, I'd like to see someone sit on them…ridiculous lot of stuffy nobles who never get anything done," he sat back in the chair. "Do they have that up in your Harfang?"

"What, nobles that never get anything done? No, we just have giants."

"No court?"

"Court?" She laughed. "I wish we had court. The most court there is we have when the king and queen decide to go hunting. The rest of the time it's always, oh look a bird, should we eat it? Lady, do you really want to clean out the library, what's it good for anyway? Well look at that, it makes a funny noise when you pick it up, here, have a horse!"

"Here, have a horse?"

"They think I like horses."

"So they…"

"Find horses and bring them to me." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it's sweet, in a way, except it doesn't seem that way when you see a twenty foot tall giant grinning at you and holding a horse in its hand that's nearly dead with fright. Bloody horses."

Rilian laughed. "Sounds like Harfang is more interesting than here, that's for sure."

"Depends on what you think 'interesting' is. Really, there are times I'd definitely prefer attending your fancy courts."

"You can have the fancy courts if you really want them." He replied, waving his hands in the general direction of the other nobles. "All they do is fuss and argue and hold their pointless councils and talk about laws…you know, I'm glad that my father brought old Narnia back, but it's been back for awhile, don't you think it's time to move forward?"

"I suppose so," she said unsurely. "I don't see much of Narnia. I spend most of my days trying to get giants to use silverware and teach them how to read."

"Does it work?"

"What, the silverware or the reading?"

"Both."

"The silverware worked. The reading…to an extent. Some of them know how."

"How long did it take?"

"Six years."

"And how many know?"

"Four."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose that's somewhat of an accomplishment, even the good giants here don't read. Commendable."

"Just don't ask me to ever do it again," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "There were one too many…"

"Is it true there's a hidden underground cavern near Harfang?" a voice said from in front of Sara. She turned to see two rather curious dwarves in royal finery standing there and looking querulously at her.

"Hidden caverns?"

"Yes," said the first, a bushy fellow with blonde hair. "Groll read it here in a book and said that they existed, but I told him the idea was preposterous and if there were underground caverns someone would have found them by now." The dwarf poked the other one, who scowled at him. "So are there?"

Underground caverns? That was new. The most Sara had ever heard was the tomb of the ancient king…he was buried beneath the city, but the tomb was gone…collapsed or rotted away for gods only knew how many years. She'd been all around the ruins, both exploring the plantlife, getting used to Harfang, learning how to ride, and chasing away more young giants like Yarag who felt like playing on the ruins and getting themselves hurt. She'd never seen any secret entrances, nor read any references to them.

"I'm afraid if there are underground caverns I've never seen any," she replied. "I've been all around Harfang, but neither myself nor any of the giants have seen anything like that. Sorry. Where did you read of such a thing?"

"Just a rumor," grunted Groll, looking embarrassed. "Nothing much. Something my father told me."

"Told you so," said the other. "And she would know, even if she's not a giant. We're glad you're not." The dwarf added, nodding vigorously. "Everyone thought you were going to sit on us."

Sara stood up and for a second looked like she was about to. Rilian gave a small snort of laughter in his seat and looked away, and both the dwarves made a quick exit.

"If you had actually done that…" Rilian said, grinning at her.

"I would have." She replied with a sniff. "Had they said that once more, I was going to…I'm not a giantess but I'm capable of sitting on people just the same as anyone else. Honestly."

The banquet was drawing to a close. "Listen," Rilian said. "If you want to see Cair Paravel at its best, going to banquets is definitely not the place to be. I can show you far better places than this, if you'd like to go."

Her breath caught in her throat and she didn't respond at first. Oh, she knew he was only being polite, and thought this was boring and could tell that she was getting fed up with the stares as well, and it was only logical to do that sort of thing, being nice to ladies and such. She'd never seen all of Cair Paravel the castle itself, though years before he had promised to show her. Now he was offering…of course she wanted to go with him. That's all she wanted.

"Yes, I think I would like that," she replied as calmly as she could, folding the napkin and setting it on the finished plate. Teaching the giants taught her just as much about etiquette as it did for them, a good thing, considering in Mayharran no one ever bothered to fold napkins or figure out where the silverware went.

Rilian turned to the king and queen. "I'm going to show the Lady around the castle," he informed them.

"Good idea," the king responded, nodding with approval. "I was going to suggest that anyway. I would, but…" there were already people lining up to talk to the king. "Terribly busy."

"That's fine," Rilian stood up and held a hand out to Sara. "Here, let's go quickly before anyone else decides they need to talk. Out this way…it's the quickest, and no one knows this door is there." He opened the door and she followed him out. It led into one of the many courtyards at Cair, this one being filled with dozens of small lime trees. There was a pair of flamingoes walking around, and they nodded politely in greeting as they passed.

"There's a lime garden here?" Sara said.

"Yes, there is. Few people know it. It's Cair Paravel's hidden secret."

"Lime gardens?"

"Oh yes. Think about it…have you ever seen a castle with lime gardens before?"

"No…"

"Exactly."

She laughed. She'd never known _that _about Cair Paravel before.

"Here, there's more, I'll show you."

It was almost what he said to her years ago, when they had met by accident in the Shuddering Wood, and she found out that their two worlds moved at a different time and she wasn't going home yet. "I'll show you Narnia," he told her then. Now he was showing her Cair, without even knowing who she was. It was fate, she knew. There was no other way around it. They were too tightly woven, and even in this almost different time and place, things were falling into the same pattern as they used to.

Cair Paravel was a huge castle, and it was easy to see how it came to be an entire city as well. There was so much to it alone that there was nowhere else for it to go but to expand outward. The castle itself had its own apple orchards, a jeweler, kitchens that were practically the size of Harfang's, three tailors as well as numerous other shops that actually existed inside the castle, an aviary, huge stables, and countless other rooms that Sara didn't even know were there. The castle itself was practically a city in itself. It was more than she had ever seen before, and it made even her Harfang look like nothing.

"This is the music hall," Rilian said finally, coming to one of the large halls down on the first floor. It was huge, with a high ceiling and excellent acoustics. It was brightly lit and a glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling. "We don't use it as often as we used to, which is too bad. Not as many people play or sing as they did before. Though our mandolin quartet just finished rehearsing." There were a set of mandolins lying on chairs in a circle with music stands in the middle. "Or taking a break. Either one."

"You have a mandolin quartet? I think that's wonderful." Before Sara even knew what she was doing, she wandered over to the chairs and picked up one of the mandolins. It was a finely crafted instrument, she could tell that the moment she felt it in her hands. It was built for a smaller person than her, but the balance was almost perfect nonetheless. She put her fingers over the fingerboard and near the frets, then thrummed her right thumb over the strings, playing a C major tonic chord that lingered sweetly in the air even after she stopped. It was a beautifully made instrument indeed.

"You play?" asked Rilian, moving one of the other instruments and sitting next to her.

"I used to," she said. "It's been a very long time." She was surprised she even remembered a tonic chord at all, it had been that long. There were no mandolins in Harfang, and when she had come to Narnia in the first place she'd been too busy to even consider it. Let's see…ah, here was a G7 chord. She remembered that one, too! "You have much nicer instruments than where I used to live."

"In Harfang?"

"Oh no, long before that." What else did she learn? Oh, there was that really easy basic song…the one every beginner learned. Did she remember that? Sort of…her fingers moved awkwardly on the neck of the instrument as she tried to dredge up those mandolin lessons that had been buried and very nearly forgotten from years of disuse. Professor…oh, what was his name…Minies would have been furious. "Where I used to live, everyone had to learn mandolin. It was required in the curriculum of the school I went to. In order to graduate, you had to pass the standard state mandolin exam." She winced, remembering that. Every Mayharran student had a deep seated terror of the state mandolin exam. It was required for every single enchanter to have a proficiency in either mandolin or flute, because those were the two instruments most commonly used in magical practice. Both were easy to learn and easy to work magically, flute because it was small, silver (silver was highly conductive with magic) and easy to play and work on its own, and mandolin because anyone could learn it and it always had been a standard instrument of enchantment and magical practices in Mayharran. Basic chords, simple melodies…she was just starting book two of the equally feared _Mandolin in Theory and Practice _series. Scary thing, that was.

She shook her head and tried another few chords, the memory coming back to her. "I remember this," she said with a smile. "My friend and I were terrible at it back at home." But she liked the music anyway, there was something comforting about holding an instrument again, especially one as nice as this. It was like having a part of home here, because she remembered those days…so long ago and dreamlike as they were now…when she and Hylaea would go into the practice rooms together and try very hard to practice but end up laughing every time someone hit a very wrong chord until they gave up and went to go eat ice cream. As a result, there hadn't been a lot of mandolin practicing going on, test or no test.

"You seem to be doing fine now," Rilian said, though his head was tilted and he listened to her playing.

"I'm trying to remember what I learned," she answered absently. "Here, it's…oh, here, here's this song,"

There was one song she still remembered, because she had to play it for her first year jury. It was another Tiendra song, because practically every beginner song had basis in the Ten Voyages of Tiendra, because those stories were once sung. This was one of the opening songs of the early verses, and she had to play it so much for that jury (which she thankfully passed) that it was one of those songs you can play again even if you haven't seen it or the instrument in years.

"That was a lovely song," Rilian said softly when he finished. "Where'd you learn it?"

"Home," she said distantly.

"What happened to make you leave home?"

"What?" she looked up, almost forgetting for a moment he was there. "Oh." She shrugged. "Unfortunate circumstances." She replied. "I didn't mean to leave home, really, it just sort of happened."

"Runaway?"

"No!" She shook her head vigorously. "No. I never wanted to leave, really, but these things…these things do happen." She turned her attention back to the instrument. "I didn't know I'd still remember how to play, after all this time."

"I think you did very well."

"Thank you."

"What was that song called? Maybe I'll ask if someone can play it at a feast sometime soon."

Without even thinking, she replied, "Tiendra's Departure from the Wood of Sgaren,"

There was a pause, and Rilian's brow furrowed. "Tiendra?"

"Yes, it's…it's the character in the song. Why?"

"I don't know. I think I've heard that name before, but I can't remember where. It sounds familiar. Where did you live before you went to Harfang? My apologies if I'm being intrusive,"

"You're not. Just curious." She rested the instrument on her lap. "And I lived in the north, near the ruins of the Witch's castle, I think it's called Lantern Waste."

"Ah," he nodded, but was still looking at her intently. "I haven't been up there in a long time. The Witch's castle…no one ever goes there now, it's said to be haunted, is that true?"

"I think so," she replied. "I went there once, and…there was absolutely nothing there. It was deathly quiet. Not ghosts, but memories of all sorts still linger around there. It's terrible, you should never go there. I'm never going back."

"I won't, then. I was thinking of once, but…" he broke off with a deep frown.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he looked away and shook his head. "You…for a moment I thought you were someone else. Sorry. You've lived in Harfang for years, right?"

"Yes, and before that up by Lantern Waste."

"Nevermind then," he waved his hand. "You reminded me for a second of someone I knew once, years ago."

"What happened to her?" Sara's hand tightened around the handle of the instrument, feeling the strings cut into her palm. Could it be that he actually remembered? That he knew who she was…she felt her hands shaking at the prospect, and didn't understand why she was so afraid of that.

"She died," He replied sadly.

"I'm sorry," Sara responded.

"So am I. I could have prevented that death, but I was young and stupid and didn't know any better. And didn't think…I was notorious for not thinking back then, and I regret all of that now, it led to the death of someone who I wish hadn't died. I hope someday she'll forgive me for that,"

Sara's hand relaxed. She looked down at the mandolin, not knowing what to say. There was too much to say, that's why, there was too much to think of and it was awfully strange, sitting here in a music room with someone else's instrument.

"I think she will,"

"Really."

"I…" Sara took a deep breath. "I think she already has, Rilian."

Now she couldn't look at him at all. She played a diminished seventh chord, trying to focus on that instead of her shaking hands and incredible nerves, how preposterous was that, for a queen to be scared of anything. But here she was, afraid of what he was going to say, because he wasn't saying anything right now and she was sure she had said the wrong thing, but at the same time she wanted so desperately for everything to return to the way it was, for she still loved him, even after all this time.

"Sarasael," Rilian said, the name soft and barely spoken at all.

"It's just Sara, really," she replied. "The giants, see, they…they can't pronounce Sarasael. It's too complicated. They all have really simple names, you know, they're not used to Mayharran names which no one here can say right anyway," diminished seventh again, this time in G major. Now move to the dominant, a root position D chord in G, then back to the tonic…

She suddenly felt a hand on her face, turning it to look at his. She felt her breath catch in her throat at his touch, however light it may be, and she looked back at him. There was disbelief in his eyes, shock, confusion.

"Sarasael Inari," he said again. "By the Lion's mane, it really is you,"

"Hi," was all she seemed to be able to say.

There was a long silence, stretching off into the enormous music room, as his blue eyes searched her face, and she remained frozen in place, not knowing what was going to happen now. Then just as suddenly, he put his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. She was startled and for a moment didn't do anything at all, but then realized what was happening and put her arms around him, resting her cheek on his shoulder just like she had all those years ago. It was as if no time at all had passed, and gods, she had missed him so much.

"I thought you were dead," she heard him say. "For so long. You have no idea. You disappeared that day, and then Nirisath came to the castle later, she was so furious…yelling at anyone who crossed her path, finally found her way to my father and spent a good hour yelling at him, and then she left Cair Paravel and that was it. No one's seen her since. We searched for you, but never found anything…we went all the way up to Lantern Waste but there was nothing there at all. What happened to you? I always wondered…you have no idea how much I wondered, always thought you met some horrible fate at the hands of that mob that day. Nirisath said you got away on a horse, but…I know you couldn't ride horses…" he pulled away and held her at arms length. "I'm so glad to see you again, to see you're alive and…obviously successful, as you've just come to make border and trade agreements with my father, and Harfang, I can't…can't imagine you all the way up at Harfang in that mysterious Ettinsmoor, no one knows anything about it, and why didn't you say anything when you came in?" He said this all very quickly, like he was afraid she was going to vanish the moment he stopped talking.

All Sara could do was smile. This was wonderful. He knew her again, finally, and he had looked for her…he really did care, he really did love her. All that rubbish he had said that day, perhaps it was all for show, all out of fear. One's parents could be imposing figures…Sara herself knew how terrifying parents could be, remembering her own mother back at home and how one glare could send her scurrying to her room or hanging up the phone so hard it almost knocked the phone off the table. And besides, they were both so young and didn't know what to do…but years and circumstance had taken them apart and put them back together, and they were different people now, though at the same time nothing at all had changed. Things would be fixed now, she knew it. They weren't young and foolish and hasty anymore, and it didn't matter what the king thought or what the rest of Narnia thought.

"Didn't want to say anything," she finally said, rather sheepishly. "They just rushed me into the castle, and I'd never been this far into it before, and it was all rather nice. And…" she shook her head. "I had to be professional, you know. There was a whole room full of people just dying to see the Lady of Harfang and praying that I wasn't a giantess, and it was awfully strange, and to be quite honest, the people here are nothing like Harfang and I'll suffice to say I was rather intimidated," she confessed.

"Intimidated by people _here? _And you live with twenty foot tall giants every day?"

"That's not intimidating," she replied. "They're giants but you get used to it. They run around doing everything I say anyway, and there's hardly anything scary in _that. _Though at first it was a bit disconcerting."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, looking completely bewildered. "I would imagine," he said. "No…what am I saying? No, I can't. We have good giants here, but everyone knows what to expect from them. This…I just can't believe this. I never thought I'd see you again, or even find you alive. Neither did Nirisath."

"You talked to Nirisath? When was this?"

"Just after you…left." There was a hesitation when he said that, and for a moment he couldn't look at her. "She just stormed through the castle, found my father, she was yelling at him…I could hear her all the way down in my room. She was furious about what happened. She actually told him that he couldn't control his own people and was letting them get away with this and now might just have a death on his hands…anyone else would have been executed for that, but it was Nirisath so he let it go. I tried to see her before she left, but she didn't want to see me…she said…" he sighed and looked down. "Said it was just as much my fault as anyone else's. Then she left. Last thing I heard, she'd settled somewhere down south, close to the Archenland border. She hasn't come back here since."

"Listen, Rilian…" she lightly lay her hand on his arm. "What happened six years ago, we…"

"Here," He stood up before she had a chance to finish. "The musicians should be coming back to this hall to rehearse any minute, we should be going. But here, there's plenty of other places we can go, walk with me?"

"Of course," she replied instantly. He left the music room and she followed, and they walked the great halls of the castle together.

"I'm just so curious," he said. "How you ended up going from healer's apprentice to running a whole castle full of giants, and the whole northern land, from what I've been hearing."

"It's an odd story,"

"I like odd stories," he said with a smile.

She laughed. "You sounded like Mien when you said that. Whatever happened to him?"

"He's still around," Rilian looked thoughtful. "Him and Toire are part of the royal guard, just like always…nothing's ever going to change with those two. They'll be in the royal guard until there is no more royal guard. Though I have to add that Toire did spectacularly at a dance competition we had two years back," he added slyly, and she snorted, remembering Toire's graceful prancing around at the Great Snow Dance. "Stalis lives in Archenland now with the king there to help him out. He wanted to do something in Calormen but changed his mind, I think. I haven't heard much from Stalis, he doesn't talk to us anymore. Neither does Nirisath, actually…I haven't heard from her since. I'd never seen her that angry, even I was afraid. Sara, we looked for you. Don't think we didn't. We went all the way down back to the Shuddering Wood, and then back up to Lantern Waste, but there wasn't any sign of you except Nirisath's old horse. The horse was just wandering around grazing quite contentedly and there was no sign that you'd been there. I thought you were dead, so did everyone else." He looked very serious now, almost sad. "There's so much I want to say now," he said quietly. "But look, it's terribly late. Tell me about Harfang, and we can talk tomorrow?"

She smiled. "I'm fine with that," she answered. "I'm just glad to see you again. It's been such a long time and I wondered what happened here."

"I'd imagine so…here, just ask me anything and I'll tell you. While there's still time…I don't want to keep you up late, you've been sleeping with Ostriches last night, I've been told?"

"Yes. Never do it, if you can avoid it. But I've slept in stranger places."

He raised an eyebrow.

"On my way to the north…oh, here, just let me tell you, odd stories and all."

"Can't wait to hear it."

* * *

It was almost unreal how everything fell right back into place almost immediately. They stayed out almost all the first night while she told him everything about Harfang…about her arrival and that whole incident there, to the strangeness of seeing the giants bow for the first time, all the way to the elating victory of seeing the wild giants safely contained in the gorge down closer to the Shribble. He listened with interest to the oddness of their prophecy, shaking his head in disbelief as she outlined it from the old king's notes. He laughed along with her tales of trying to civilize the giants, from showing them how to read (only her four, of course…the others, she didn't even bother) to getting them to use silverware and…even more incredible…napkins. 

Neither of them made any reference to the past, not yet at least. Perhaps that was best saved for last, and right now she was so glad to see him again…and so glad that things weren't turning into a complete disaster as she had often worried.

"Still, you had prophecies in Narnia, didn't you? Do they really come true?" she asked the next day at lunch. They were eating out on one of the nicer terraces, and even though it was cold, it was a pleasant day otherwise.

"We only had one, so it's not highly reliable. But the one we had did come true…it was much more vague though. Seems to me that theirs really was talking about you, though. Why are you so worried about it? It's already done."

"It's been done for six years, but I can't help but wonder. It seems a bit odd."

"Don't think yourself the prophecy sort?"

"Not particularly. At home, we ignore prophets when they speak."

"Home," Rilian paused. "Have you heard from them?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of what to say. It's been so long that my parents are dead, she thought. And my best friend might be dead too and her grandchildren could be standing there in our place, and I never saw them again and never got the chance to say all the things I wanted to say, and I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if they'll ever find out all I wanted to say to them, or if they'll think it's my fault I never contacted them again, or what…

She didn't say that. She couldn't.

"I'm sorry," Rilian said hastily. "I didn't mean to ask that, I was just wondering myself…"

"I know. I know, don't worry. So was I. Wondering what happened." Sara gave a small shrug.

"I'm just not going to sign it, that's what," a voice said suddenly. The two of them turned around to see a woman walking onto the terrace, holding a handful of papers and shaking her head at them. She had wavy red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose, and pretty blue eyes. "I won't. Here, look at this." The lady threw the papers down on the table. "Tell me if you would."

"Er…Sal?"

"What?"

"We have a guest."

The lady turned around, and immediately looked embarrassed. "Well, forgive me! I'm just not paying any attention to anything today! Good morning," she said, holding her hand out to Sara, who shook it in response. "You're…oh, you're the lady from Harfang, aren't you? That's wonderful! We're so glad to have you here, and…I'm sure you like it here, right? Civilized company for once."

"Sal!"

"Well, giants _are _uncivilized, aren't they? The ones that don't live in Narnia. Even the ones here you have to watch out for, they'll drop something on you and then be all, 'oh, sorry, didn't see you there!'"

"They don't do that," Rilian retorted.

"Yes, they do. That happened to me twice the last time I was here, remember that? At least the first time it was a handkerchief. I thought I was being kidnapped or something."

Sara couldn't help but laugh at that.

"No, I'm serious!" insisted the lady. "One of them dropped a handkerchief on top of me, and I'm just walking when all of a sudden something huge and heavy falls on top of me, like a gigantic blanket out of the sky…and it certainly felt like a kidnapping, because then I feel something pinch my shoulder and pick me up. Next thing I know I'm two feet away from this giant round nose with one eye staring at me and going, 'Look, I think you've got my hankerchee, miss!'"

That made both Sara and Rilian laugh, and the other lady took the opportunity to sit down.

"Well, at least they were polite about it," Sara replied. "And at least it was only a handkerchief. Not…well…"

"Not well, what?"

"Er…don't ask. Really." Sara shook her head. "I'm afraid we've never met before," she said to the other lady.

"No, of course not! Look at that, I didn't even introduce myself, isn't that proper diplomacy? I'm Salwyn from Archenland, call me Sal,"

"Sara, from…well, Harfang, you already knew that."

"Yes I did. It's fascinating to have you here. No one even knew there were any lands up north, let alone a whole castle. And giants who were…are they intelligent in any way?"

"They're giants, what do you think."

"Then not very." Lady Sal put her chin in her hands and actually looked very interested. "Well, I'm from Archenland, so tell me…do you have any dark stories of the north? Goblins, riddles…"

"We don't have goblins or dark creatures…really, we don't have much of anything, just birds and whatever lives in the ruins around the castle which isn't much either. It's not that interesting, I suppose it just sounds it…the dark and mysterious far north…snows a lot, though. That's about it."

"Well, tell me anyway! Where I live, we don't even have snow. How absurd is that. I came up here and saw snow for the first time and was positively enthralled. Imagine that, crystallized water falling from the sky, amazing isn't it?"

Sara couldn't help but like this Archenlander, and spent the next hour telling her about winters in Ettinsmoor and the strange things that went on and how many times she had to go out with some entourage to dig out a young giant that had fallen in a snowdrift in the ruins or gotten lost during one of the freak blizzards that blew down around the castle quite often. She listened with much interest, fascinated by stories far different than her own that she grew up around. Sal told her a few amusing stories about Archenland, and it seemed that she was never out of amusing stories to tell. Finally Sal looked down on the papers and frowned, and then her eyes widened.

"Oh! Look at this, I'm so easily distracted." She picked up the pile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay here this long! But your stories were so fascinating, I've never heard anything like them, really. I'm hoping you'll join me for tea again tomorrow, perhaps?" asked Sal, shuffling the papers in her hands.

"If you want, I'd be delighted." replied Sara, holding out her hand. The two of them shook and Sal looked happy at that prospect.

"Thanks! And…here, you want to see these papers?" this time she held the pile out to Rilian. "They want me to sign for this, this is why I came here in the first place. Here, just look over these and tell me if you think they're completely absurd and why would anyone sign for this in the first place?"

"Sure," Rilian took the papers and glanced briefly at the titles, raising an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yes," replied Sal, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table next to him. "I just got this pretty much an hour ago and they said, you've got two days to look over this proposal. And I'm not signing for this! See, look what it says here!" she pointed. "Complete rubbish."

"Who wrote this?" Rilian asked disbelievingly.

"Someone down in Beruna."

"Beruna conference?" He said scornfully.

"A product of."

"Figures."

"I know. But here it is, let me know when you finish looking through them, alright? I'm going to go back."

"Alright…I'll see you later." Rilian bid farewell to Sal, and she trotted out the door.

"She's nice," Sara commented, watching her leave.

"Isn't she?" For a moment he looked like he was going to say something more, but then quickly changed the topic back to the prophecies they were discussing earlier.

* * *

"I'd have to say," Sal said, a week later, over yet another late night tea in the garden. "That the most peculiar individual I've ever met was Mr. Smiggleby, he lived around Anvard when I was very little. He had this broomstick shop, you see, and he kept telling everyone that he was going to make the broomsticks fly. He insisted on it, too. He'd hold them out and smile broadly and drop them…they never flew. But he said, someday, you just watch. They will." Sal shook her head. "I don't know how or why he was planning on making flying broomsticks. But none of us minded, he was a nice fellow, Mr. Smiggleby. Big mustache." 

"I had a teacher like that once," Sara replied. "Big, fat man, striped suit, looked like a walrus. He was my literature teacher, and it was his goal to invent something that when you spoke to it, would write what you spoke down."

"That's not too outlandish."

"No, except it had already been done at least ten times by numerous magicians and used often in the city. But he never listened when we told him that."

"Obstinate," laughed Sal.

"Completely. And a horrendous literature teacher too."

"We don't have literature teachers here. At least none that I've met…there's plenty of reading, yes, but it's mostly history. We have a relative abundance of history teachers. Though that's all in Narnia, because frankly, not a lot happens in Archenland. Quite boring, really."

"Nothing much happened at home, either. Just my friend and I generally causing trouble and driving everyone crazy."

It was evening and the garden was cold, clouds gathering overhead with the hint of snow in the air. Sara barely noticed, as even Cair at its coldest was nowhere near Harfang's bitter winter weather. Sal knew it was going to snow and loved it, finding snow one of the most exciting things about the north. She considered this north, something Sara found highly amusing.

The two had become surprisingly good friends as the week wore on. Sal was a fun person, quick to have a funny story to tell and easy to laugh with, and just as easy to make hopeless fun of someone else with. They had tea together the next day and every day after that, finding that they got along quite well. While Sara didn't have as many "dark stories of the north" as Sal had hoped, she did have plenty of events that happened back at home. It seemed almost easy to talk of home now…Sal came from a southern land and knew about the weather and the hot summers and thunderstorms that would come in and leave just as quickly. Sara never mentioned she was from another world…and Sal, thankfully, never asked.

The king and queen were extremely courteous, and spending time in their company was a thousand times more pleasant than before. They thought of her as an equal now, a ruler of a strange country with even stranger values, but no less of a person. And they didn't remember her…and if they did, they showed no sign of it.

By now it was late at night, and a light snow had begun to fall. Sal didn't want to go back inside…in fact, what she really wanted to do was go out into the garden and dance in the snow, something she did pretty much every time it snowed here. She insisted that Sara came with her, and in the ridiculous late hours of the night Sal enticed her to dance too, and they did, until they received extremely strange looks from a passing dwarf, and collapsed laughing onto one of the benches in the small park.

"Gods, I feel like I'm three years old or something," Sara said, putting her head back and feeling the snow continue to fall. "This is absolutely ridiculous."

"Yes, but isn't it fun?" Sal replied, grinning delightedly. "It's my favorite thing about this area. The snow, and of course the way people look at you funny if you do anything out of the ordinary."

"Ah, that I know well. You ought to come to Harfang, we have blizzards there."

"Do tell!"

"Come on, I've told you already! The sort where you take three steps outside and get lost, everything's so white, and you'll freeze to death in hours if you can't find your way inside. Here at least the snow is pleasant…I'm surprised it snows at all, being so close to the ocean."

"So am I. But we get no snow in Archenland, it's such a shame. And I should very much like to visit you in the moors, traveling across a snowy wasteland and fighting off the dark demons that dare cross one's path…"

"I already told you there aren't any dark demons…"

"But it's so much more exciting if you think that there are. Come on, make your kingdom sound interesting! Flourish it!" Sal waved a hand in the air. "I could say, I'm from Archenland. Or I can say, I'm from Anvard, the great southern castle that overlooks the warm land that stretches from Narnia down to Calormen. I can say that from where I am, I can look out into the distance and see the Great Desert begin, and sometimes when I ride out to the border on cold nights, I can hear the spirits of Calormene dead shrieking and wailing in the hot wind."

"And I'm guessing there aren't any dead Calormene spirits?"

"No, but doesn't that sound magnificent?"

"Indeed it does." Sara replied. "So what, I should say I'm from…"

"The dark lands of the north. No…the _wild _lands of the north. That's what everyone calls it anyway, so might as well take full advantage of it. Strike fear into the hearts of the weak."

"Because I love to run around doing that," she replied sarcastically. "Let them fear me, so long as they respect me." She finished, putting on a fake lofty expression.

Sal chuckled. "That's just the way to go. Not that they don't fear you already…or your giants, per se."

"Please don't mention anything about sitting. Giants really don't do that."

"What, sit on people?"

"Yes, they hardly do that. They're actually quite conscious of what they are sitting on. It's just what they are eating that they really don't…notice. Or pay attention to."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful." Replied Sal. "Mysterious unknown food being eaten every night…"

"Actually, it's the fact that I _do _know what it is that worries me."

"Then when I come to Harfang, I will make sure and be more than conscious of what I eat."

"Excuse me, Lady Sal?" there was an interruption from a Shrew, who stepped in and bowed. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you're wanted in the blue room downstairs."

Sal made a face. "Oh really." She said. "Can't it wait?"

"Urgent."

"Ugh." Sal shook her head vigorously sending snowflakes flying from her hair. "Well if they're going to interrupt me then I'm going to go just like this."

"Covered in snow?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow. "And wet?"

"Absolutely." Sal responded. She stood up and scowled at the Shrew. "Well, urgent meetings, you know. Can't afford to keep my public waiting." Sal finished with a melodramatic flourish. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, most definitely. Have fun, enjoy the meeting."

"Oh, so much." Sal finished, giving a final salute to Sara before trotting inside. The Shrew gave a shrug at Sara as if to say, can't help it, we have a crazy lady living in our castle.

Sara shook her head and sat back on the bench, enjoying the weather. It was cold and snowy, but the central Narnian cold was preferable to the bitter cold of Ettinsmoor. She was surprised to feel accustomed to the cold now, and it was almost peaceful here in the gardens. She closed her eyes and let the snow fall on her face. It was refreshing and beautiful here, peaceful at night. There were no gardens in Harfang, the giants didn't have patience to cultivate ones as large as this. There was only her small private garden that she kept outside near her room, but it was small…just enough to give the herbs that she needed and nothing else. Nowhere near something as grand as this, but of course Cair Paravel had been built and lived in for years by people of the more civilized persuasion.

"Sara, what are you doing out here?" she was startled from her reverie by the sound of Rilian's voice. "It's late and it's snowing, you should come inside."

"It's not that cold," she replied, opening her eyes and smiling. "Trust me, this is nothing. And the snow, likewise. It's just a little snow." It was heavier than a little, but back home spontaneous blizzards were a common occurrence. "It's not a bad snow until you can't see. Then I'll go inside. And you're out here, so who are you to talk?"

He chuckled. "Guess you're right. I like the snow…it doesn't do that enough here, even during the winter."

"Living close to the sea, I suppose. Does that. Climate and the like…but at least you have more watercress here, there's absolutely none up by where I am. Shame, it's good for preventing certain illnesses, gets rid of kidney stones. Prevents scurvy if you're going on a long journey on the ocean, you know."

"You still remember all that?"

"What?"

"All your healing. I remember you were really good at that, remember when you were Nirisath's apprentice and planning on taking over after she retired, she was planning on that too. Do you still do any of that, that healing? Or is it too busy ruling a country now?"

"I still do it. I have to, giants don't know how to take care of themselves." She shook her head. "I looked at what they had been using for healing for all these years, it was horrendous. They still used bloodletting for nearly half their medical practices, thinking that it will rid one's system of the disease, when all it does is leave a very anemic and still sick person. I can just imagine Nirisath's face if she heard of what they did, she'd look…sort of like this…" Sara imitated Nirisath's expression of old, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed and the look of one who really is trying not to say everything on her mind, for if she did, it would be a brief tirade of archaic and useless practices that have no place in contemporary healing.

He laughed, and sat down next to her on the bench. "Oh, I remember that all too well. She always used to do that, before you came even. She knew a little about Calormene healing practices and was telling someone once, I forget quite when…she must have made that face, oh, ten times, maybe even more. Want to get her really angry just mention Calormen, and believe me, it'll be the last thing you hear for the next hour. Did she ever do that to you?"

"Psh, do you think so?" Sara waved her hand dismissively. "There weren't many stories about healing and other cultures, it was all, girl, go get me the fireweed, girl, look we're running low on marigold didn't I tell you to get some? Look at this, Inari, didn't I tell you to finish this several hours ago? It's flu season and we have no time to be sitting around wasting it writing or…or doing whatever you're doing with that magic of yours, not unless it's helping!"

"I remember _that._" Rilian responded. "She'd do that to everyone, I think. It wasn't just you, anyone came into her house and they were no longer anything but a pair of hands to help her out. I miss that…we've never had a healer like that since then. Nirisath was the best."

"She was. Wish I could find her, just to see what happened to her…and to ask her enough questions, there's hardly anything written on healing in Harfang. Everything else…oh there's battles and conquests and more battles and all, but healing? Next to nothing. Had to try and remember it all, had to look in my book and see if I could find anything there…"

"Did you? I remember that book had everything in it."

"Still does, for the most part. My best reference manual…it even modified itself to include the new plants they have growing up north that aren't here. There's more up there that I use anyway, so it's not really a bad thing that I live there now. Wish Nirisath would stop by though, I'd love to see her boss the giants around. They'd listen to her. She'd boss them around better than I would."

"No offense, Sara, but you never seemed the bossy type…"

"Then come to Harfang with me," she said suddenly. "And I'll show you. You'd love Harfang, it's new, it's different, it's…well, it's clean." And what, that was the best she could say about her castle? "I've never seen anything like it, so I'm sure you haven't either. I'll show you the ruins around the castle, it's historical. Of what I'm not sure, I can't decipher some of the records…you know far more about Narnia than I do, so maybe you'd be able to do it?"

"What, decipher records for you? I don't know, things are awfully busy at the moment."

"But it would be well for both of our countries, wouldn't it? You'd be the first true Narnian in Harfang."

"The first…" for a moment he stared past her and looked genuinely interested in the idea. "Always would have liked to be the first for something."

"Then come with me." Impulsively, she seized both of his hands. They were cold from the wind and the snow. "You took me to Cair once, I'll take you to Harfang now. Consider it fair trade."

"Fair trade," he smiled slightly. "I remember that." He removed his hands from hers and blew into them to warm them up. "But if it's even colder there, I'm afraid…" there was a pause. "It'd take a lot of preparation to come. But the idea sounds marvelous, Sara, I'd love to come see your Harfang someday. There's just so much going on right now, I'm afraid I don't have enough time right now. Consider it a delayed acceptance…I'll go with you later. I really do want to see it."

"I'll hold you do that," she replied, and rubbed her arms. It was fine walking, but sitting, the lack of movement caused a drop in body temperature, and it was still snowing. "It is cold."

"Now you're noticing it." He said, quieter now, then taking her cloak that she had discarded and lightly put it around her shoulders. "There. Keep it on this time."

She smiled and pulled the cloak around her. "I've missed you," she said softly. "I know it's been a long time, but I always wondered…wondered what happened to you here."

"Nothing of consequence, I'm afraid. I think your life is far more interesting than mine, really. There's hardly anything spectacular about being crown prince, I'll tell you that. Contrary to popular belief."

"I think it's fine. And interesting. And far more stable than living in the north…" The wind was cold now too, and she pulled the cloak tighter.

"We should go inside, you look cold."

"I'm used to the cold. Don't worry about it."

"Well, we seem to have a habit of being outside in bad weather, so…"

She smiled. "I know. But I don't mind the weather, as long as you're here. I've missed you so much, it's so dark in the north sometimes, so cold, you wonder if anything else exists. But it does, and…and here we are again, and…"

"Excuse me?"

"We were destined to meet again," she said almost dreamily. "The gods have already woven us together, don't you see it? Now, more than ever." She closed her eyes. "I know everything went so badly years ago, but…everything was also far different then. I was hardly a queen, hardly anything responsible or noble enough to even talk to you, let alone…everything that we did. But it's been six years, and it is all different now…don't you see it?"

"See what?"

This time she opened her eyes to look at him. There was snow in his hair, just like it had been that one night, and she loved that. "The pattern. It was all wrong, years ago, you were nobility and I was only a healer's apprentice. But look now…" she ran a finger along the fur lined cloak she wore. "They call me Lady of Harfang, they listen to my word as if I was some sort of queen. Even your father thinks I am some sort of nobility…this is why I did it." Her voice was distant and far away. "You said you wanted to marry a queen…oh, it wasn't easy. I can tell you that. Dressing this way, ordering around giants, leading them on a vast conquest of the north, secluding the wild ones in a gorge, developing…a culture…Harfang never had one before, and now they're genuinely civilized and respected. Now Ettinsmoor is a real northern country, now Harfang is a castle recognized by Narnia…it works now,"

She reached out and lightly touched his face with her fingertips. "I love you, Rilian. I have always loved you, and still do, even now. It took six years but I've finally found a way to make everything work. Your parents call me Lady now and believe in Harfang, it…you told me those years ago you had to marry royalty, and I've done that. Now…see, it all works. We can be together again."

Sara didn't know what she expected. Perhaps it was that dream she had held in her mind, the idea of once she finally said it, he would laugh, he would take her in his arms and tell her how wonderful the idea was. How perfect and ideal, how the gods managed to find a way to weave them back into the pattern and now it would work out well in the end. After all, things usually did work out, didn't they?

"Oh, Aslan…Sara, I…" he didn't do any of that. He turned away from her entirely, and she saw a pained expression come over his face. "Sara, I didn't…think…"

"What? Rilian, what's wrong?" Her hands fell into her lap and they were ice cold now, and she felt the beginnings of dread settle around her. She had a sudden horrible feeling that something was going to go wrong. "I know I've been gone for a long time, but it's not too late to change everything, I know this. We only had a dream once, but it can be real now, don't you see it? I know we shared that same dream."

There was a long pause, too long, before Rilian finally turned back to her.

"Sara, I'm so sorry," he said, very quietly. "I truly am. You have to believe me."

"Why? Why, what's wrong, oh gods I've said the wrong thing again, haven't I? I'm hardly…"

"No, it was all my fault, I should have told you this from the beginning. Sara, after you left…what could I do? My father sent out a search party but no one could find you. Everyone thought you had died, even I did…I knew you couldn't ride and knew that those people who had destroyed Nirisath's house could be still looking for you, too. I went out looking but found nothing…there was no sign you had been anywhere. I thought you had surely died. I know…I know we had that…oh, everything we thought back then, but we were so young, and so idealistic, believing we could do anything just because we wanted to, didn't we? But then Nirisath's house burned to the ground and you disappeared…what was that? That was hardly a dream. We couldn't…change the world, just because we wanted it to be changed.

"I waited for three years, always thinking that someday you'd come back. It would be the most wonderful thing if you had, but the years passed and you never returned and I had to accept the fact that you were most likely dead. That's what everyone told me, and…I had to believe them eventually."

"But it's not too late now," she said resolutely, refusing to stammer. Ladies didn't stammer, no matter what. "I am alive, and we can make it work now. I love you, Rilian, don't you see that?"

"Lion's mane, Sara, that was…it was so long ago…"

"Six years isn't that long!"

"Here it is. Everything changes in six years. I've missed you and I always wanted you to come back here someday, but I never thought you would."

"But I'm here now," she was aware of how frail her voice sounded.

"I know…"

"But what? What's wrong?"

"Sara, I…I don't know how to say this. I'm engaged."

This time it was her turn to stop altogether. "What?" was all she managed to say.

"I'm so sorry."

"To who?" she didn't even know why she was asking.

"Lady Sal. She came here two years ago to stay safe, there were several assassination attempts by Archenland dissidents. She had to stay here while they went to find them."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Sara. I really am."

Sara stared at her hands in her lap. This was all wrong, it wasn't supposed to go this way at all. What could she do? No, not cry. Never cry. Ladies didn't cry, that was reserved for girls, foolish girls who weren't strong enough.

"Well then forgive me for being foolish," Sara heard herself saying. "And assuming things, people shouldn't assume anything." She stood up and had to leave this place now, had to get out of this damned garden and this snow before it got too heavy, had to get far away from here right this instant. "And I wish you and Lady Sal the best. If you ever need anything, I'll be in Harfang, and you'll…you'll always be welcome there."

"Sara…" He reached out and turned her face toward his. "Sara, I wish it didn't have to be this way either. Please tell me you understand."

"Oh, of course I do, yes, it makes perfect sense." She answered automatically. "I should have expected this, here I am, acting all undignified out here. Well…it is late, I'm afraid I am terribly tired and must retire." She brushed the snow off her skirt. "Goodnight,"

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she said suddenly.

"Leaving?"

"Yes. It has been longer than I had anticipated and I have to get back home. I don't know what has happened in my absence, or if they are capable of maintaining everything I had set down without me there to help them with it. You understand that, I'm sure. I'm concerned for my people."

"I do, but…here, at least let me go with you halfway."

Sara didn't know how to respond to this. She looked away, blinking furiously in the snow. "Halfway," she said finally. "To the giant's bridge. I'll show you where that is."

Dignity. All ladies must above all else have dignity and composure no matter what happens. "And you're always welcome in Harfang if you ever have business there." She finished with a slight bow. "Goodnight."

He looked genuinely sad; she couldn't stand it. She turned and left, walking through the door and down the hall and back into her room where she closed the door.

Gods, what an idiot she was! How foolish had she sounded out there, acting like…like she was seventeen again, and that anything would work out just because she believed it would and spent…spent six damn years trying to get it to work that way.

He didn't love her. Not only that, but he had been engaged…to that same person Sara had spent the past few days with. Was this the gods' idea of some joke, some irony to play on her, to show her that she had wasted six years of her life the way she did?

She'd leave tomorrow. She couldn't stand staying here any longer. She did what she came here to do and now that was over.

Sara put her head in her hands. It was such a mistake to come back here in the first place. She should have stayed in Harfang. At least that way she could have spent her time at least…at least with the memory of a time when he did truly say he loved her…and she believed it…

No, she would not cry. She was too old for that sort of thing. She pressed her fingers over her eyes so hard that she saw sparks underneath her lids.

There was a knock at the door.

"Yes? What is it?" she demanded. A Shrew entered and bowed.

"Good evening," the Shrew said.

"Yes? As I said before, what is it?" she didn't want to be bothered, was it that hard to understand.

The Shrew didn't appreciate rudeness, but figured that sometimes one should expect that from ladies.

"Nothing, I bring a gift from the king and queen before you depart," the Shrew said. "I'm the jeweler here, and…" the Shrew held out several necklaces, beautiful and finely crafted silver. "And they offer you some tokens of their thanks to wish you well on your way."

"Thank you," she answered automatically, taking the necklaces. They were quite nice and it was wonderful of the king to give her such gifts. And she'd leave as soon as possible. "Tell them that I am grateful."

The Shrew nodded and turned to leave, but then paused and looked slowly back.

"You…"

"Yes? What?" She set the necklaces on the desk with the intention of packing them.

"No…I remember you…" the Shrew said slowly.

Sara ignored him, standing up and gathering several of her things together. She wanted to leave now, if she could. Staying here longer wouldn't do anything, wouldn't solve anything or make anything change. She brushed the snow off her cloak and set it on the chair.

"I remember you!" This time the Shrew's voice was troubled. "You…you were Nirisath's apprentice, years ago."

"What? That's utter nonsense." Replied Sara. "I'm from Harfang."

"No…no you're not." The Shrew shook his head vigorously. "I never forget a face. You were that witch who cursed our town years ago, there was a flood and there were deaths, and…"

"Shut up!" Sara whirled around, startled by the sudden outburst in terms of the Shrew. As if everything else wasn't bad enough, she didn't even want to think of what it could mean should someone recognize her. "I've never been here before, this is my first time in your honorable city." She snapped, then realized she was snapping and should stop. "Forgive my rudeness, but…"

"I never forget people, see, that's why they've made me into a jeweler because I remember every bit of jewelry I ever made, and if it needs repairs I'm good at doing that. And I remember you." He pointed. "Why are you back here again? Coming to bring more ruin to our city?"

"Nothing of the sort!" she responded angrily. "I came here to discuss treaties with the king and queen!"

"Is that what you say?" the Shrew took several steps back. "I remember you, you were a witch, bad luck upon our land…that's what you're coming to do again, bring more bad luck, bring treaties and cause ruin to us all?"

"What nonsense is that? I never brought ruin in the first place!" she snarled, feeling a sudden dangerous anger towards the small creature.

"Most of them have forgotten, but I never could. You destroyed half of the city with your flood…"

"My flood! It wasn't anyone's flood!"

"And enchanting the prince, using your otherworldly witchy wiles to bring him under your control…is that what you're doing again? I see you, in the garden, with our prince…" The Shrew suddenly pressed a small paw to its mouth. "I knew it, that's what you're here for! Starting your filthy enchantment all over again, taking our prince away from us so that you can take our country instead of your northern wasteland…" and the Shrew's eyes took on a distant, far off look. "I can't let that happen. I must tell the king and queen straightaway."

"No!" Sara shouted. "Don't you dare! I'm not doing anything of the sort, don't you dare, I didn't come all this way…"

But the Shrew had opened the door and was already in the hall. "Witches!" he shouted. "There's witches here, your majesties!" the Shrew's voice was high as it shrieked. "Witches, coming to take our prince away, coming to lay ruin to our city!"

"I didn't do anything of the sort! I have no intention of doing so! I'm leaving tomorrow, and going back to my own country, don't you dare thing that I would…" She drew her knife from her belt in defense, not having any idea what the Shrew could possibly do to her, but knowing…knowing that if the Shrew told the king and queen, all agreements would be off, and she'd be exiled all over again, this time her kingdom…if you could call it that…somehow stripped away, no! The treaties would be torn up, suspicions would arise all over again, she didn't want any of that, not again! Not when it nearly cost Nirisath her life, and gods only knows what would happen if those citizens of old found out they housed what could be a possible witch under their roof…

"Witches!" the Shrew's voice shrieked. Now doors were being opened. "There's witches here!"

"Shut up! Don't you dare!" she staggered forward and managed to grab onto the Shrew's arm. "I didn't do anything, I never did!"

The Shrew whirled to face her. "Yes, yes you did! I never forget a face, I never forget a murderer! Your majesties, come quickly!"

"Stop it!" Her voice rose to nearly a shriek as well, feeling sudden horrible desperation. No, no one could recognize her; things would be destroyed even further than they already were. There were doors opening all down the hall, attention brought by the Shrew's cries. "No, I didn't…don't say anything!"

"I'll tell everyone!" The Shrew responded. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

It was easier than she had thought; one minute the Shrew was shrieking loudly, his voice echoing through the hall. The next minute his voice choked off, and she felt hot blood on her hand, spurting onto her face. The knife had moved forward seemingly of its own accord, but she knew better…now it was firmly lodged in the Shrew's breastbone, the arterial blood bright red and warm, staining the carpet red, and her hand, and the entire front of her dress.

She jerked the knife back out, sudden horror and realization coming across her face. No, she wasn't a murderer, she was a healer…

"Murder!" the Shrew's voice was softer now, but no less desperate. "Murder, someone help me, there's murder been done…"

She heard footsteps and saw Rilian as he turned the corner. "By Aslan himself, what happened here?" He rushed towards the Shrew, ignoring Sara entirely at the moment as he caught the dying Animal in his arms. "Lynet, here, let me get you to a healer, don't talk right now."

"Murder," blood bubbled on the Shrew's lips. "Filthy witches killed me," his voice was raspy and terrible. "Don't let the witches get anyone else, don't let them take your country!" that was the last thing the Shrew said before he lost too much blood and his heart stopped.

"What is this?" There was blood all over Rilian now too. "Lynet, who did this to you?" Then he looked up.

And Sara was standing there, the bloody knife in her hand, her entire front drenched. Her eyes were wide with terror and disbelief and her hands were shaking. "Oh gods, what have I done," she said. "Oh gods, I didn't…"

Rilian still held the Shrew in his arms. "Sara, did you kill him?"

She did, she knew she did, and it was such an easy thing to do, too. It was so simple merely to drive the knife that she normally only used for chopping up herbs between the Shrew's ribcage, for he was so small and the act was so quick. Life was given and it could be taken away just as easily…that's what perhaps they never tell you as a healer…

It was a healer's job to save lives. But they could end just as quickly.

There was a fine, fine line between a good enchantress and an evil one…

Her hands were shaking so badly now and she was nearly about to drop the knife. "He deserved it," she said, and her voice didn't sound as tremulous as she felt. No, it sounded strong…decisive…angry.

She was angry. She was more furious than she had been in a long time. She clutched the bloody knife tighter, the handle digging into her palm. She had wasted six years of her life for someone who hadn't loved her anymore, she'd come back thinking…thinking that they'd accept her as a lady, and instead this one ran down the hall, calling her a filthy witch. She thought things had changed from the moment she rode her horse through the gates and into the city. But nothing had. Not a damn thing.

"What? Sara, what are you talking about?" there was fear in his eyes too, and that was something she couldn't stand to see. Was he afraid of her? Yes, now he was. He was looking at her in absolute disbelief. "What did you do? You can't…can't kill people, Sara, you should know that, you're not a murderer!"

She turned and ran back into her room, her breath coming hard and fast and ragged. She began throwing things into her bag, gathering them all together, scrubbing the knife off onto her skirt, not caring that the rest of her dress was stained. She had to get out of here now, before they saw the dead Shrew, before they permanently labeled her as a murderer, as a witch, before the Shrew's words could have any basis in reality. She silenced him, she had to leave before that too was a wasted effort…

"Sara! Stop, right now!" Rilian's voice was commanding and she had to, hearing him, she always stopped when she heard his voice. "What in Aslan's name was that about?"

"He deserved it," she repeated, heated anger apparent in her voice as she closed her bag. "Here I am, thinking that I'd come back to a changed city! Your people haven't changed, neither has your world, they're the same as they've always been!" she turned to face him, and for the first time didn't feel afraid or nervous when she saw him. "I was a fool to think anything different! And now I'm going home, right this instant. Good bye, Rilian. You are still welcome in Harfang if you ever need to come."

"Sara!" He grabbed her arm. "What are you thinking? I tried, Sara, all those years ago. I talked to them and tried to make things change, but…but people don't change overnight. An entire world can't change either, not that quickly! But that's no excuse for murder, I…I can't imagine you capable of such a thing!"

She jerked her arm out of his grasp and threw on her traveling cloak, not caring about the blood on her. She fumbled with her shaking hands to fasten the buttons.

"One person can't change anything overnight…"

She didn't know what possessed her. Perhaps the terror of the fact that she had in the open genuinely killed someone, maybe it was because after all this work she found out that the world had not forgotten her; maybe it was her wasted effort of six years…all for nothing…all to find out that Narnia hadn't changed at all, and she was still a filthy witch in their eyes.

And now she was a murderer.

She pulled the hood up over her face, the warm fur tickling her cheek. Then she walked up to Rilian so that their faces were nearly touching, and said, her voice soft and dangerous,

"Watch me."


	18. Chapter 18

((Ah, mysterious eyeball reviewer, your reviews as always make me happy. I'm glad you liked it, it surprises me if anyone says that because it drove me absolutely nuts, haha. This chapter was one of the longest in this whole story/novel/thing. Yeah, I know this whole story is pretty long, and this is only...eh, about halfway done, I think. I had no idea when I started it that it would be this long...I thought it would be a short story, a novella at best. Then it kind of took on a mind of its own :P Yeah, I got really tired of writing it towards the end because of that length, though the later chapters were far more fun to write than the earlier ones. In retrospect though it was a good experience, proving to myself that I had the stubbornness to sit down and finish something, no matter how much it may have driven me crazy. I am thankful you are reading this, it makes me feel a little less existential about posting this entire thing. You are very, very appreciated :) 

And I just went and checked, chapter 19 is the longest. And yes, her world does make another appearance))

Sara barely noticed the ride back to Harfang. It seemed all one road, one city to another, leading into the rocky open and cold terrain of Ettinsmoor she had come to call home. She rode almost nonstop, blinded half by bitter fury and half by tears, close to wearing Tiendra out from under her. The horse she figured would die of exhaustion by the time they actually reached Harfang, and she didn't care. It was only a horse, just like the thousands of other horses she saw.

Then gradually the land over the giant's bridge changed from smooth to rocky and uneven, and finally opened into the ruins around Harfang. She rode on to the familiar castle on the top of the hill, noting how even in her absence the lights were always left on. But when she reached the gates, they were closed.

Of course they were. Before she left, she ordered to close their gates after noon to keep everything safe. It was late afternoon now, and there was no other way in. Harfang was protected, they had seen to that and so had she.

Then what? She wasn't going to stay out here all night. Gods be damned, couldn't they open their own doors? At least leave them open for her, it wasn't much to ask!

But she hadn't told them when she would return and they never asked. Another idiotic mistake on her part. What had this all been, one mistake after another? She never should have left the castle in the first place. Then she could have been content with her life as a giant's lady, then she could have been fine with resting her cheek on the cold window and dreaming of Narnia the way she remembered it. No, she had to leave, she had to be stupid enough to believe that things could happen the way she wanted simply because she wanted them. It was a mistake, thinking that. It was a mistake thinking that anyone would have forgotten her after all these years. And it was the biggest mistake of all to think that Rilian would look at her and say, I still love you, Sara…I have, all these years, and every day I've waited for you to return...

Foolish. So damned foolish. Stupid to think that love would solve everything…such a young, idealistic notion.

And even worse now, as she stared at the bleak picture of Harfang in the distance. She had taken something that was barely worth anything and made it exceptional. And for what purpose? She had no desire to rule over giants for the rest of her life. She did it so that she could return to Narnia and take Rilian's hand as a true lady, and then they would be married, as he had promised so many years ago. She damn near succeeded…the king and queen saw her as nobility now, signed their border agreements and peace treaties and whatever the hell else sheasked them tosign. The people of Narnia for the most part saw her as the mysterious northern lady who dared to govern the giants for whatever unknown reason. But there were still those people…few as they were…who looked upon her countenance and saw the witch apprentice from so many years ago whom they called a murderer when she was only a healer. They remembered. 

And so maybe she was a murderer…gods only knew there was real blood on her hands now. 

She left the knife there and the Shrew too, his body grotesquely twisted on the fair beautiful halls of Cair Paravel. And she remembered Rilian's eyes too, horrified as they looked at her now…gods above, Sara, how could you do such a thing, you were never a murderer…

He was afraid of her now. There was no love, there was even hardly a shred of friendship left at that moment. He never believed her capable of such a thing, but she had done it, one of his own future subjects dead at her hand.

Another damned mistake, wasn't that. She should have let the Shrew live regardless. At least then she wouldn't be haunted by the memory of that look on his face when he first turned the corner and saw her there. And at least she wouldn't still drift off to sleep with the echoing cries of a dying creature in her ears, and Nirisath's words…healers don't kill, they don't murder, the closest they do is bring peaceful death when the suffering becomes too great.

I'm sorry, Nirisath.

And what terrified her even more was how easy it was. A mere stab of the knife, and then nothing, then a voice silenced forever, a heartbeat disappeared. Death. It was not frightening in Starwing, who had slipped away peacefully after battling a grave illness. This was a violent and sudden death. No wonder he was afraid. So was she, on some level. Afraid of how easy it had been.

Afraid of that fine, fine line that separated a good enchantress from an evil one…

Had she already crossed it?

Never. It was a murder of desperation, not of genuine want. Fear, as opposed to forethought. That made all the difference, she told herself. 

The gates were still closed. The horse stopped, and she could feel Tiendra's flanks heaving under her. He was going to die from exhaustion any minute now. She slid off the horse, her feet touching the ground and one hand resting on its sweaty skin. She felt him swaying now, hopefully if he fell he wouldn't crush any of her things.

Sara stepped away from the horse and to the gates, putting both her hands on the cold metal bars that stopped her way into Harfang. The castle was lighted and everything showed signs of early evening activity. She could see the giant silhouettes in the distance.

Rilian had turned away and forgotten her, he had moved on and remembered those years as nothing more than something that had happened between now and then, in that strange transition period of years between childhood and adulthood.

Then why the hell didn't she?

Oh, she wished she could. She wished she could simply turn her face away and agree, and say, yes of course, we were young and foolish and it's too bad everything had to happen the way it did. I'm glad you found someone genuine to love, perhaps I will too.

But she couldn't. 

The horse whickered softly and tiredly. She heard a thump as its back legs gave out, and its front legs soon after. It rolled onto its side, its breath coming heavily and soon stopping altogether. She turned around and looked at the dying horse. She'd barely even thought of it this whole ride, now that too was dead.

Wasting six years of her life, and now what? Continue to waste it? Stay in Harfang until she grew old and bitter and died, sick in bed? Even now she knew that was not a noble death for an enchantress. It was a commoner's death. 

"Open the gates," she ordered, her voice sounding low and flimsy in the open air with no one to hear them. "Open them this instant." What, were they actually going to listen? Doubtful. There was no one around to hear her. 

The air was cold, the bitter Ettinsmoor winter already having settled around the castle. No matter what happened, it wouldn't do good to stay out all night. Not in this weather and so close to home. She reached into her belt and pulled out a handful of glittering gold powder and threw it at the gates. It sparkled across the old gates and they creaked slowly open.

Damn, the horse was dead. That would mean she'd have to walk the rest of the way to Harfang. Well, it wasn't that far, at least. She pulled her hood tighter against the wind, as she strode down the path and through the ruins to the castle itself. Was there anywhere to go but here? There was no other world but this one anyway. Her world was long gone and she would never see it again. It was all another flight of fancy, the thought that she would, just like the thought that Rilian would love her forever and she could actually make a difference in something. If only, Hylaea, if only…how I do wish you were here, no matter how long dead you might be now.

Two giants stood guard at the gate, and startled at her approach.

"My lady!" one barked. "You've returned at last! The gates were locked…we apologize!"

"We do!"

"The gates are of no concern," she replied, now sounding stronger in the presence of her subjects. "You were only following orders. Let me inside now, I am terribly cold." It was too cold here; Cair Paravel was warm, so was Mayharran. Everywhere else was warmer than this damnable kingdom she called hers. The giants obeyed and she strode through the doors and back into Harfang.

Nothing had changed. Why had she expected it to? They only followed their orders. And her orders never changed either. And what could she have told them, that she never expected to return? That she could change the world simply because she thought it should be done?

That's what she told Rilian. That she was going to change the world. Hah, she couldn't do that. It was the most she could do to keep this castle maintained and the giants in order. Those were just words, spat in anger and fear and desperation. She pushed down her hood and shook out her long hair, combing her fingers through it to flatten it out; still a hopeless gesture but an old habit that wasn't quick to die.

"Take me to the king and queen. I must see how they have been in my absence." That was but a demonstration of power. The king and queen had ruled Harfang longer than her and knew what they were doing. Nevertheless she found her way to the throne room where the two enormous and lavishly dressed figures were sitting in their respective thrones and munching away on two legbones of an unknown origin. Immediately upon her entering, they dropped the bones and snatched up napkins to clean themselves with. All the giants knew that their lady hated uncleanliness.

"Welcome back," the king boomed. "We're honored to have you with us again and thought you weren't going to return." The queen nodded vigorously, her many chins wobbling.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting to return." She replied. "Now tell me all that has happened in my absence."

It wasn't anything major. There were hunting parties, there was a small marriage, a birth, and three deaths of the oldest giants here. No attacks, no fighting, it had all been quite calm. They had known how to take care of things and done a fair job of it.

"But now that you're back, of course," the queen said vigorously. "Everything will be much better."

"How was your trip?" Janile said courteously, being far more curious than the rest. The other giants were honorable but not all that bright; Sara's giants at least had a bit more intelligence than the rest.

"It was informative," she said, for that was really all she could say. Giants, no matter how close they were to her, could never possibly understand all that had taken place in Narnia. And what could she tell them? That she wasted six years of her life in Harfang? That she had used them that whole time in order to achieve her own ends, so that…

That sudden revelation was stunning. For it was _true. _She'd dressed up Harfang, she'd cleaned it up and taught the giants and made them genuinely civilized. She drove the wild giants to the gorge and taken the wild lands of the north and for the most part made it liveable, so one didn't have to worry about being killed by something or another the moment they walked outside. Still, she hadn't done it for Harfang. They would have eaten her as soon as looked at her if it wasn't for that bloody prophecy. She cared little for them…oh, she cared enough, the same as any healer would for their patients. But with all healers, once the patient was well, they would be on their way and there wouldn't be much cause to look back. Instead, she stayed here anyway…and over the years manipulated Harfang to the top, took these giants and used them. They were never smart enough to recognize that they were being manipulated by their lady for the sole purpose of…so she could return to Narnia and marry the man she loved. 

Once she did, she knew she'd rarely go back to Harfang. She'd leave them as soon as she could to have stayed in Narnia with Rilian and live in Cair Paravel.

Sara sat down in the chair near Janile and Yarag. "It has been very busy," she said. "And I am tired. The journey was long, and during the winter it always takes longer. I wish to retire early tonight. Thank you for keeping everything well in my absence."

Without another look at them she went to her room, allowing only Janile and Yarag in to start the fire and clean the fine amount of dust that had gathered off of everything while she went over and sat by the window, staring out at the dark landscape outside. Her room had the best view, but it didn't stop everything from looking the same, especially after time in Narnia. One could peer outside a window at Cair and see the ocean, glittering and stretching for miles, and even in the worst of storms when the sea lashed against the rocks, it was still a darkly beautiful and changing scene. Here all one saw was rocks and rough terrain and ruins…so many ruins. It was a shame that this place, once a great city, was now hardly remembered except for the words "under me", and no one knew what that meant unless they read it in the books and learned the histories. It was the only living monument to a king that no one even remembered the name of.

"Your fire, lady," said Janile. "Is everything fine?"

"Yes," she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now leave me." She rested her chin in her hands and stared outside where the moon, only a tiny sliver, was beginning to rise over the mountains. It would have looked quite dramatic if she had bothered to care about it. 

"Are you sure?"

"No, Janile, I'm fine." 

Yarag took this as an answer and wandered off, but Janile hovered for a few seconds more. She had somewhat of the natural healer's instinct, the innate knowledge that something was definitely wrong with someone. But Sara didn't move, and Janile accepted that and left as quietly as she could. Sara locked the door and dressed for bed and went to sleep without another thought, trying overall to avoid thought altogether.

* * *

The library had naturally been ignored for the time she had been absent. It would take a bit of her time to get it clean again, and there were still countless books and scrolls she hadn't had a chance to read yet. She had plenty to read and could do so until she figured out what she wanted to do. 

Right now, she hadn't the faintest idea. She spent a week doing nothing but flipping through book after book, looking through scrolls. 

Finally she threw aside her latest scroll in disgust. She was halfway done with it, except it was in a language she couldn't understand, and when she realized that she had spent half the day reading something when she didn't even know what it was saying, it was time to leave. She threw the scroll across the room, watching it strike an old statue and fall to the floor with a musty thump. Then she stared at the statue, a ridiculous thing of some pompous old king, standing and staring with blank eyes and a large curly beard, and it was so arrogant looking, old, and pointless that she picked up a paperweight and threw it hard at the statue. The bust shattered and crashed to the floor, now getting dust and old dirt everywhere and leaving a blank pedestal.

Sara sat back in the chair and closed her eyes with a frustrated sigh. That was totally pointless, not to mention the waste of a good statue. She'd have to get it cleaned up now.

"Janile," she ordered, and the library, which she had enchanted several years ago to carry her voice to whichever giant she wanted it to, immediately relayed the call to Janile. "Come here."

She waited until she heard Janile's telltale steps. Both Janile and Talfa entered, for Janile had been attempting to show Talfa how to read. Janile was exceptionally proud that she had mastered simple reading.

"Yes, lady?" Janile and Talfa bowed.

Sara pointed to the broken statue without even opening her eyes. "Get rid of that,"

"This instant, lady." Janile said, poking Talfa to make him do it. Talfa whined, but Janile was older than him and gave him a look that sent him scurrying off to obey him.

"Lady," Janile then said.

"What? Is it done?"

"Talfa will take care of it."

"Good, that is all." 

Janile hesitated, shifting her weight onto the other foot and causing several bookshelves to rattle.

"Janile, what is it?" Sara opened her eyes and looked with annoyance at her giant. "If you have something to say, say it. If not, please leave."

"Lady," Janile began. "You've been in here for awhile. Everyone's wondering where you are."

"Why? They can get along perfectly fine without me."

"Because you're not here anymore. You just disappeared. No one understands why, because you used to go out with us all the time. You used to go with the queen and her hunting parties and ride along, or you'd take a lot of us out onto the moor and ride and fight off the stupid giants. Or you'd take me in the ruins and show me some of your plants," Janile added this last thing a bit wistfully. "You don't do that anymore,"

"It's only been a little over a week since I returned. It's nothing to worry about."

"But I want to go out on the ruins again. I don't know what to look for. And the king wanted your help on something, and the giantesses who weave, they've messed something up and forget how to fix it. You used to help us all the time."

"Well isn't it about time you learned something for yourself?" She snapped, suddenly furious for no particular reason. "Instead of always asking me for help? Eventually I'll be too old to do all those things and you'll have to do them yourselves anyway. Can't your queen help at all? Or is she completely useless that all she does is stand in front of a mirror and powder her face until she looks absolutely inane? And the weavers aren't stupid, but apparently they're too lazy to try to work out their problems for themselves. And suddenly you can't go out and find the herbs? I must have showed the same ones to you hundreds of times but you already forget. Open a book for once, the whole bloody lot of you! And stop bothering me all the time, that's all you do, bother me for stupid things that you could do yourself!"

She immediately regretted it and threw herself back into the chair, picking the scroll up again and staring at it. The giants didn't deserve to be snapped at. They didn't deserve manipulation either. 

"My apologies, Janile," she said after a time. She didn't know what else to say to the giants and didn't much feel like saying anything more. "I am certain you have the capabilities to do more than what I ask. You should stop being hesitant and instead embrace those abilities." Well, that sounded right. She wasn't sure Janile or Talfa understood it all, but they did comprehend her tone of voice, and Janile gave an unsure smile and then left the library. Talfa followed close behind.

Sara dropped the scroll and went instead to find something in a language she could read. These giants deserved better. She was confused, and more than a little angry, but they could do without knowing that. She'd just have to keep herself better under control, that is all, until she could find out…until she could find something to do. Something interesting.

But right now, there didn't seem to be any of that. So she sat back down with a new book and started reading again.

* * *

Winter turned to early spring, and early spring covered everything with a fine drizzle of rain that continued almost nonstop for a week. It was never a downpour, only a steady, dreary mist that fell from the gray overcast sky and kept everyone inside, grumbling about the weather. Mother giants would insist that their children not leave the castle and not get wet and catch colds, while the children pressed their faces to the window and stared outside in longing as the rain continued to fall unerringly.

Sara hadn't done much all winter but categorize the library. She still hadn't found a purpose. She felt just as aimless, only now with a very organized library. She entertained several brief ideas over the winter, from the idea of going back to the witch's castle and seeing if she could contact the witch's spirit and order it to work the gate, to moving to Archenland because it was warmer there, all the way to taking over Narnia, or Archenland, or somewhere interesting. But the ideas came and went, because she didn't know how to call forth spirits and she didn't feel like traveling all the way to Archenland. And as entertaining as the idea of taking over Narnia was…well, people had tried it before, and it never worked. Not to mention it was only evil tyrants who tried, and Sara wasn't sure she had any idea how to be an evil tyrant.

And the rain continued, and life continued ever as it must. 

Janile entered the dining room late one morning as breakfast was just finishing. She was drenched from head to foot and looking near frantic as she staggered into the room. Sara was sitting with the king and queen, listening only halfheartedly to their complaints. As soon as Janile entered, it gave her a much-needed distraction, and she cut the queen off in mid-sentence to focus her attention on Janile.

"Lady, there's been some trouble," Janile gasped, panting from running.

"What trouble?" Sara threw the napkin down and stood up.

"It's Yarag," she said. "He's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

Talfa came up behind Janile and was biting his lip hard, not meeting her eyes. "Gone from Harfang, lady,"

"What do you mean, gone? Did he run away?"

"It's…we don't know."

She sighed. "If you don't know, then why are you telling me?"

"You won't believe me!" Talfa burst out.

"Yarag disappeared down a hole," Janile said at the same time.

Sara stared at them both.

"Down a hole?" she finally said, raising an eyebrow. "Yarag, who is nearly as big as the king himself, fell down a hole and disappeared." She sat back down.

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me," whined Talfa.

"He really did," Janile held up a hand. "Or you can strike me down where I stand. We can even show you the hole."

"Where is it?" she figured she might as well humor them.

"It's out in the ruins!" Talfa insisted. "There's a spot and we were walking…"

"Wait," Sara cut them off. "You were out walking in the ruins in this weather? Why?"

"Because you asked us to find you hirmaly," Janile said almost reproachfully. "So we went looking because I remember what hirmaly was and it grows in the ruins."

Sara paused and thought back to earlier that morning. She _had _done that…Janile was the only one smart enough to recognize hirmaly, and Talfa…Talfa went nearly everywhere that Janile did. She suspected he had taken a fancy to the giantess, but of course Janile paid him no attention. Hirmaly was hard to find anywhere except those rocky places that surrounded Harfang. 

"And why did Yarag go with you?"

Janile rolled her eyes in Talfa's direction. Everyone knew the two of them were inseparable.

"Yarag was trying to get some of the plants," Talfa explained. "And then some rocks fell and we all heard loud noises and then I looked and saw Yarag disappear down a hole. In the ruins! And I ran over to that hole and yelled for him but he didn't respond." Talfa finished, his voice lowering dramatically.

"Really." Now this whole thing sounded ridiculous, but Talfa looked genuinely afraid, and she knew Janile wouldn't lie to her. "Here, I'll just go out and see what this is all about, then," she told the king and queen. "It's most likely nothing, but…" she gave a small shrug. "Might as well."

She climbed down her chair and onto the floor. "Let me get my cloak and I will meet you back here." It was still raining, less than before, but no less dreary. The mist had settled over everything and the chill was creeping into the castle, and, Sara thought with mild annoyance, with everyone in such close proximity the germs would spread quickly and everyone would get sick.

She pulled on her cloak and used some of her power to waterproof herself the best she could, then followed Janile and Talfa out onto the ruins.

It was even grayer here than it was in the castle. At least the castle had tapestries and other things to set off the monotony, out here there was just gray stone and moss. She saddled one of her horses and mounted, really not wanting to have to ride down to the ruins in this weather. She also disliked the ruins for the most part. They lied on the only good land in Harfang, since the crag that Harfang stood on was hardly any good for growing things. If those ruins didn't exist, she could have possibly cultivated those lands into a nice garden, perhaps, or a park…something, anything was better than the unbroken stretch of former houses and temples and broken pillars. 

"There," Talfa pointed, and even Sara was startled. She pulled the reins up short and hard and the horse trotted back nervously, its front hooves almost slipping. 

This was normally just a crumbling foundation of what had once been a large house. She never paid any attention to it before except for once to pull off some of the moss that she needed. Now…

Well, Talfa hadn't been lying when he said Yarag fell into a hole in the ruins. What was once merely old stone was now a gaping, black hole. Sara took several steps back. Experimentally, for this is what was _always _done in the stories, she picked up a rock and hurled it into the pit. She heard no sound.

"Yarrin blessed," she whispered. What was this?

"Told you," Talfa said, but he sounded afraid too.

"Yarag just fell into this? I've never seen anything like it, not around these ruins."

"He did," Janile said. "And I've never seen it either. But don't you know what it is? You know a lot. You read."

"But I've never read of this." There was some writing that most of these ruins was a giant tomb to a dead king, but…tombs didn't go that deep.

"Here, let me try something." She pulled out some of her powder and sprinkled it into the hole. Then the hole illuminated…showing nothing but, well, a hole, for as far down as one could see. There were the walls of the hole, and it was extremely large and looked…somewhat like a tunnel, twisting steadily downward. It was definitely not part of a bigger tomb, for if that was so, it wouldn't twist and turn in that odd manner.

"There are lots of those holes," Talfa said, staring into the vaguely lit blackness. "But they are all small. I fell in them before. Everyone has. But they don't go down like that." He pointed, and Janile nodded in agreement.

"And now we've lost Yarag down a tunnel of unknown origin," she said. "Wonderful." She exhaled and stared into the hole. "Talfa, how many of these holes have you seen?"

"A lot," Talfa replied. "They are all over here in the ruins but they're all really small. Most of them you can just get your leg stuck in,"

Sara stared down into it. She'd occasionally seen some of the holes that Talfa mentioned. They were small things, but she figured they were the remnants of old tombs and whatever else the former inhabitants of this place needed.

"What should we do?" asked Janile.

Sara twisted a piece of hair around her finger as she thought. What could be done? She should just write off Yarag as dead and start training a new giant to be one of her personal guards. This hole was deep and strange, and she'd seen nothing about it referenced in any old records. It was a terrible shame that Yarag had to be lost like this, but Ettinsmoor was a rough territory and people died all the time. So did giants.

But what was down there, anyway? It had to lead somewhere if Yarag fell all the way down there and couldn't be heard. Of course, it could also mean he fell down somewhere and broke his neck and was now dead in the bottom of an unknown hole.

Still, she liked Yarag. She remembered healing that horrid head wound of his her first week here, and how he trusted her to do it and lived well ever since. She always felt a sort of personal responsibility to Yarag after that. She was responsible for his life and his livelihood. Granted she could say that about anyone in Harfang, but she felt somewhat protective of Yarag. 

She pursed her lips and sighed. She couldn't just leave him there, not at least without finding out what happened to him.

"Well,"

"Well what?" Janile leaned forward.

"Talfa," she held out her hand and Talfa stepped forward. "Talfa, I want you to come with me."

"Where, lady?"

"Down there, to find Yarag."

The giants exchanged glances.

"Er…"

"What?"

"That's…we don't know where it leads."

"No, we don't. This is as good an opportunity as any to find out, and it wouldn't be right to leave Yarag to whatever his fate may be. I'm going there after him, and I want you to come with me, Talfa."

"Oh, but lady, surely you…you…don't, and…want to…do something else!" Talfa stammered. 

"Lady, you might die,"

"I'm an enchantress." She replied. "I can't die." A lie, of course, but they didn't know that. They thought she could do anything. Let them, at least for now, keep believing that.

"But I might," Talfa said, his voice suddenly small. "I don't want to die."

Sara turned around and looked up at Talfa. "I won't let you die, Talfa," she said seriously to him. "You have my word on that, and you know I keep my word. But I need someone to come with me."

"Why? Why do you have to go? Yarag can find his way back. I thought you'd figure out something else to do."

How could Sara explain it to them? She didn't know what she wanted, she felt nothing but hopelessly lost for the past few weeks. And staring into this hole, she didn't feel like going back and sitting in her room and looking through her book and practicing her magic just like she did every day. She wanted to do something, to get out, to…oh, she didn't know!

Maybe she wanted to find something.

Maybe down in that hole there _was_ something. She didn't know what…maybe it was the mystery of it, the ancient ruin, the disappearance of Yarag. But she knew at that moment beyond a doubt that she had to go down there. 

"Well, I am going," she said. "Talfa, I would like you to come with me. If you do not wish to do so, then I will go alone. Either way I do not wish to lose Yarag." Either way I'm going there to find whatever it is resides down there, and I don't want Janile to lose her life. I'm sorry Talfa, but I need Janile here. She is the only one intelligent enough to keep things going. And…it is true, I do not want to lose Yarag. I didn't mean to save him years ago only to have him die in the same ruins he almost died in the first time.

It was risky business, a venture like this. But what wasn't? And if there was nothing down there, then at least she'd get away from the castle, at least she'd find…find…something.

"Talfa?"

Talfa's voice was still small when he replied, "Of course I'll go with you, lady. If that is what you want."

"I won't let any harm befall you," she promised. "I swear it on glorious Yarrin himself." They didn't believe in her gods but knew if she swore, it was serious indeed.

"Then I believe you," Talfa replied, slightly stronger now. They always believed what she said.

"Then come with me." She looked up at Janile. "Tell them I went in search of Yarag, and as usual, if I do not return, Janile, then you are now advisor to the king and queen and continue things in my absence."

"But I hope it does not come to that," Janile said nervously.

"Nor do I." She gave a small bow to Janile. "Now come, Talfa. Let us go." Talfa still didn't move. "I must ask that you go first," she said.

It wasn't fair to Talfa, she knew that, making him go first into something that she intended to do herself. She was using him, again, taking his life and perhaps throwing it away. She promised him that no harm would come to him. Could she really promise that?

No. She couldn't promise anything. She needed him to go first. But the least she could do was give him protection, so she quickly put a shielding spell on him as he stood at the lip of the hole.

"Go, Talfa,"

He reluctantly stepped forward, then forward again…and she heard him yell as he disappeared down the hole with the clattering of even more stone. When she heard his voice disappear, she did the same spell, then closed her eyes and stepped over the edge after.

She didn't know how long she fell. It was most likely only a few minutes, perhaps ten, fifteen at the most. She drew her limbs in close together to try and avoid being hurt too greatly, but it was a lot further down than she thought, and the rocks and loose gravel cascaded down with her until she hit the bottom with a jarring _thud._

"Lady? Lady? Hello?" Talfa touched her on the shoulder as lightly as he could. "You said enchantresses don't die."

Sara felt cold against her cheek, and Talfa's insistent touch on her arm. She sat up and opened her eyes as wide as she could. The shield didn't hold as long as she hoped, but at least it kept her from breaking her head open on the rocks she felt falling with her. However…she reached down and lightly touched her ankle. The shield failed near the end of the decent, and…and she felt a sharp pain in it and hissed when she pulled it out from under her. It was clearly sprained. "Talfa, are you alright?" was all she managed to get out before she succumbed to a fit of coughing. Dirt had gotten in her lungs, dirt and dust and gods only knew what else. She hunched over and pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle the sound. It echoed oddly in this…this…

It took her a moment before she realized that she had opened her eyes and was not seeing anything.

"Talfa?" she said, her voice sounding flat and dead. "Where are you?"

"Here," Talfa replied. "I'm right in front of you."

It was too dark to even see him, and Talfa was enormous. Sara pushed herself into a sitting position, trying to avoid putting any pressure on her ankle. "Can you see anything?"

"No," Talfa replied nervously. "I hoped you could."

"Give me a minute." She didn't know where this was and knew that expending magic of any kind was a bad idea, not knowing what else she might face, but there wasn't much of a choice. She threw a handful of a bright yellow powder in the air and spoke, and the tunnel was promptly illuminated.

It was even stranger when it was lit. They were in a tunnel, an enormous tunnel, tall enough to accommodate Talfa if he hunched over. The walls were brown and grey, dirt mixed with stone and dust and most likely clay. Under her feet was more dirt, tightly packed. The entire place smelled musty, old, and unused. And what was more, this wasn't the end of it. The tunnel was flat here, but she saw that several feet away it continued to slope steadily downward, though not as sharp as the way they had come. The path seemed to widen, too, and she could tell by the footprints in the dust and dirt that Yarag had indeed come this way.

Talfa's eyes were wide. "I didn't know this was down here," he said.

"Neither did I. Here, help me stand." 

Talfa held out a hand and Sara used it to pull herself up, balancing all her weight on her right leg. She tried to put pressure on her left, but quickly shifted off of it when a horrible pain shot up her ankle. Well, if all she got was a sprained ankle and a few bruises from the long fall down this tunnel, she should be grateful.

Did she have any healing powder with her? Yes, of course she did, she always did. She sat back down and took a moment to heal her ankle the best she could with as little magic as possible. It wouldn't do to waste all her power now incase there was something worse farther on. Still, she had to do this now anyway. She started it along the way to healing, ridding herself of the pain and starting to mend the tendons, then took off the scarf she was wearing and used it to bind her ankle tight to help the rest of the healing along. Then she stood again.

"Let us continue,"

"Are you sure?" Talfa stood with her, hunching over, his head brushing the ceiling and dislodging some dirt. 

"Yarag went that way, and we're going after him." She took a deep breath and began walking ahead, hearing Talfa reluctantly follow her. 

This passage had to be made by someone…or something…maybe both.

That was the only explanation for the fact that it held both Yarag and Talfa falling down here and walking without collapsing, and the fact that the path they were walking on was flat and easy to walk on now that it had leveled out more and was now sloping steadily downward.

Then just as suddenly, the walls opened up and they were no longer in a tunnel but a huge cavern. There was no need for Sara's magical light, for this place had its own light…a dim glow, reminiscent of the twilight just after the sun goes down but before night set in. The floor was softer than the tunnel, mossy and a dull green color. Stranger still were the trees…if they could be called such. Strange shapes rose from the floor and drooped over the ground. They resembled trees, their dim flabby shapes stretched out and branched, but hanging limply over the mossy ground. She couldn't see the roof of the cave…the odd, gray-green light, which seemed to come from both the moss and the strange trees, was not enough to reach the top of the cave. 

Stranger still were the creatures in this cave…

There must have been hundreds of animals spread out around the floor, all sound asleep. Some were scaly and looked like dragons, others were long with multiple tails and heads, and some rolled over in their sleep and showed long glistening fangs or bat wings. Not a sound could be heard from them, and they seemed to be sleeping so deeply that Sara didn't fear any of these odd, huge creatures.

Talfa yawned. "Is Yarag here?" he said.

"I don't know. Stay here," Sara walked further into the cave, her footsteps making no noise on the soft ground. None of the creatures moved as she walked. She stopped to nudge one of the batlike things with her foot and nothing happened. What sort of place was this?

"Do you see him?" Talfa sat down. "I want to go home,"

"Give me a moment. I don't see any of his footprints." There was no sign that Yarag had been here, even though this was the only place that he could have been. There was no other place that the tunnel had led.

Sara covered a yawn with her hand. After she found Yarag, she was going back to Harfang and taking a long nap. She felt terribly tired.

Further along there was still nothing, only more creatures. The mellow light didn't flicker, instead it only grew softer as she continued on. She blinked furiously, pressing her fingers hard to her eyes to keep awake. Why was she so tired? Must have been the fall, and then she used her magic, and one always felt drained after a healing, even a mild one. And there could have been other injuries she didn't know about…maybe a head injury that wasn't making itself known until now. Head injuries were risky things and that could be making her feel so sleepy. But no, concussions happened straightaway, they weren't delayed like this. Still, she was so tired…

"Lady, can we go back? I want to go to sleep."

She turned around, and Talfa had sat down on the ground and was resting his head in his hands. His eyelids were drooping. "I'm so tired."

"It must have been the fall," Sara replied. "I feel it, too." Maybe just a brief rest would do them both well. It was a large cavern and it might take all day to find Yarag, and who knew what other things lived in here? They could be dangerous, and she and Talfa had to be ready to face them.

Right now she was exhausted. There was a strange sleepiness creeping into her mind, and she felt she could barely stand. Every part of her mind was focused on resting, sitting down right now.

Weakly, she sat down on the mossy ground and rested her back against a flabby tree. Her limbs felt so feeble she could barely lift up her arm. Her head fell back against the tree and her breathing slowed, and she could barely keep awake at all. What was this? She reached up and forced her eyelids open. Everything else was sleeping, was there any reason not to join them? They looked like they were enjoying themselves. And it seemed so nice, the idea, just being able to close one's eyes, let her arms fall down and rest her head against the soft tree, and forget…forget about Narnia and of Rilian and home, and just sleep…without dreams, without pain and regret. They looked happy, there was no reason…no reason she shouldn't join them…

Her head fell to the side, and there she saw Yarag.

He was sleeping, just as the rest were. He was curled up with his head resting on the ground and his limbs drawn inward, and his breath was coming in and out softly. He looked peaceful, but…was sleeping so deep…

She rolled her head over to look at Talfa. He was nodding off and nearly gone. The light was dim and sad, the trees didn't rustle and there was not a sound to be heard. It was so perfect, so easy to just…close her eyes and forget about everything, give in to the strange insidious sensation of drowsiness that was invading her soul. She felt her eyes closing, felt the weakness take her…

_Yarag was sleeping. Talfa was sleeping too. So was every other creature in this cave…_

This wasn't natural.

Sara forced her eyes open. She knew about enchantment, and…while this wasn't an enchantment, it certainly wasn't a natural sleep. There was some sort of spell over this place that made everyone who came in it fall into a strange deep sleep that she didn't know how to stop. Yarag had wandered in here and was caught up by it, and now so was she and Talfa. No! She couldn't let that happen! She wouldn't be a victim of whatever spell was on this place!

Gritting her teeth, she forced her almost unresponsive arms to reach down to her leg. She pulled off the bandage on her ankle, and then removed the healing spells from it. Pain lanced up her leg, sharp and terrible, but it was enough to bring her mind into clear focus. She reached out with both arms and grasped onto a soft branch and pulled herself up, leaning against the tree and standing with both feet. The pain was even worse now, but it cleared her mind. It cast away at least some of the drowsiness that this place was having upon her. And she knew one thing…she had to get out of here. She had to get Talfa out of here too, before he fell victim to the sleep and she gave into it.

Sara staggered away from the tree, her ankle hurting worse with each step she took. She could feel the sleepiness trying to counter it, trying to get further into her mind and numb the pain so she would fall back to sleep. Already it was taking too much effort to walk back to where Talfa was.

"Talfa!" she shouted as loud as she could, her voice sounding dulled from the strange light and trees. "Talfa, wake up!"

"Don't want to," he mumbled, his head falling down and chin striking his chest. "Just sleep a little."

"No, Talfa, you can't sleep!" she continued to shout. "You have to wake up right now and come with me this instant! I've found Yarag, and a terrible fate has befallen him, and should we stay any longer that same thing will happen to us!"

"Don't care," came Talfa's reply, his voice almost gone. "Want to sleep."

And so did she. The pain was disappearing and it still felt like a good idea to now collapse next to Talfa and sleep along with him. He looked content doing it.

"Talfa, we have to get out of here! Don't give me any of that sleeping nonsense!" she tried to make her tired voice as authorative as possible, as much to convince her as him. "Do you know whom it is that is speaking to you?"

"Lady," he muttered.

"Yes, and do you know what that means?"

"Do what you say,"

"Do what I say! Exactly! And I order you…yes, I directly order you to stand up right now and get out of here. We have to leave now. Do not sleep. If you sleep, I shall be very disappointed in you."

She saw Talfa fighting now, his desperate want for sleep conflicting with the fact that he wanted to obey her just as much. 

"And I mean that. If you sleep, then I shall leave you down here forever and never bring you back to Harfang. You will no longer be one of my personal giants, and I will exile you to live out among Ettinsmoor with the wild giants forever. You will no longer be welcome at Harfang. I will bar my doors to you for all time."

It was extreme, and she hated saying it. She could tell that Talfa did too. He forced his eyes open, and his mouth fell slightly open in horror.

"You won't!" he said.

"If you sleep I will!" She began pacing back and forth, the activity stopping her at the moment from sleeping, though her limbs still felt weak. "And you have my word! Stand up, Talfa!"

And much to her surprise, he did. He stirred his giant limbs and got awkwardly to his feet, almost falling on top of several sleeping creatures. 

"This way!" Sara ordered. She spotted another tunnel, not the same one that she came in. "Come quickly!" she took a deep breath and steadied herself, and then ran. She heard Talfa run the best he could behind her, his feet striking the ground and making no sound. But any second now the drowsiness was going to claim her, any second her legs were going to fall out from under her and she'd sleep forever in this dim cavern.

But then she crossed the line from the cavern into the tunnel and kept running, running until the pain in her ankle returned in full and she fell to the ground with a cry. Talfa stopped behind her and fell against the wall, hitting it and making real, genuine noise.

The sleepiness had gone now. The dull softness was replaced by the genuine darkness of a cave, the lack of smell replaced with earth and clay. It was all far more real, and her and Talfa's voices weren't muffled but rang clear in the tunnel. The drowsiness had faded, and Sara now felt in clear possession of all her senses.

There was no doubt that the cavern had some sort of spell placed on it. That sleep wasn't natural, it was some sort of…a trap, perhaps? Something to capture unwary travelers who found their way down here.

That meant that there _was _something down here. It couldn't just be an enchanted cavern, there had to be a reason for the enchanted cavern, and there had to be people who made that cavern and kept it.

Yarag was lost, she realized with a little sadness. He was too deeply captured by the magic. She then realized lucky she and Talfa were to have just escaped. Yarag didn't, and neither would every one of those other strange sleeping creatures. They had been taken, their fate would be to sleep until whatever held them released them.

"We made it," she said, feeling already better at hearing her voice clear in the passageway. "Bless you, Talfa, we made it out alive."

"You're not going to exile me, are you, lady?" Talfa said anxiously. "I don't want to be. I tried."

"Talfa, I didn't mean any of that! I wasn't really going to throw you out. But I had to get you out of that cavern, it was a dangerous place. It took Yarag, he will not awake now. That same thing was going to happen to us unless we left. But we did, bless you Talfa, you were strong enough to listen to me instead of sleep. When we get back to Harfang, I'm going to give you something, I don't know what but you will be greatly rewarded for your glorious service here."

"Thank you, lady," Talfa breathed, a smile creasing his dirty features. 

But now they just had to get back.

She was just in the process of figuring out what they were going to do now, with her ankle even worse than it was before, and the only passage back to Harfang was looking thoroughly impossible, both having to go back through the cave of the sleepers, and then traverse a path that seemed almost vertical when they fell down there. She was just trying to figure out a plan when abruptly a light, a real true light, shone into her eyes.

She started, jerking away from whatever was holding the light. It wasn't as bright as lights back above ground, but it didn't have that dim and sad quality as the lights in the cave. It belonged to…to…

What looked like a gnome, a short creature only about four feet tall with close set eyes and a bulbous nose squashed above a frowning mouth. The gnome was holding a lantern in one hand and a spear in the other, and the moment his gaze fell upon Sara, his withered lips pressed together into a frown and his eyebrows wiggled above his watery eyes. Then he lowered the spear and pointed it directly at her, and said in a dull but commanding voice,

"What business do you have here, overworlder?"


	19. Chapter 19

((Thanks for letting me know; I'll go through this chapter more thoroughly. Some of the misplaced marks seem to be from the file upload...when I uploaded this chapter, it randomly repeated several sentences. Either way, thanks MER ;) And enjoy this rather lengthy chapter, lol))

"Should I squish it?" was Talfa's almost immediate response. "Looks like a bug. Smaller than you, lady."

The gnome whirled around and pointed its spear at Talfa, but then looked up when it realized that the leg in front of it belonged to something much, much larger. The gnome's head craned upward and it almost fell back in shock as the light from its lantern showed Talfa's angry face. Talfa was holding his thumb above the gnome, ready to squash it flat at the first sign of trouble.

"No, don't," Sara ordered. The gnome twisted its head around to look at her. "Don't squish it. Who are you?"

The gnome skittered away from Talfa's hand, its own hand clutching the spear tighter and the lantern in an almost defensive position. 

"He's not going to hurt you unless I tell him to." Sara said. "So don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you either."

The gnome turned back towards her, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You escaped from the cave. How do I know you won't do more?"

"I give my word,"

The gnome didn't say anything for a minute, only regarded her closely. "I repeat," he said. "What business do you have here?"

Sara figured it was best to tell the truth. "One of my giants…those creatures like him…" she indicated Talfa. "Had fallen down a hole in the ruins where I live. I did not want to lose him, so the two of us went in after him. We came looking for him, to find him and bring him back to us. We didn't know that the tunnel led anywhere, we didn't know about…that cavern."

The gnome nodded seriously. "No one knows about the cavern." He replied, his voice grave. "Many sink to the bottom, and few return to the sunlit lands."

Sara didn't like the way that he said that. 

"Well, if you could kindly show us the way back to the surface, I would be highly grateful."

Fear flickered across the gnome's face. "Go to the surface?" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "All the way to the surface, where you live with that…that sky over your head! Where I could just take a step and float off into the endless sky full of stars and…nothing else…" he shivered. "I will never go there! It's too horrifying an idea. How dare you ask me that?"

"I'm from the surface," Sara replied unsurely. "And so is he, and we both seek to return home." It was the first time, she realized vaguely, that she called Harfang home.

"Many sink to the bottom." he repeated. "And few return to the sunlit lands."

"You said that already," Talfa pointed out.

"Because that is the way of things." The gnome replied. He pointed to the cavern. "All of them have found their way down here from the surface. They will sleep there and will not wake until the end of the world."

Sara peered back into the cavern, and she could easily believe that. They were all sleeping so deep, and nothing she could do would wake them up. At the end of the world…

The thought that the same fate had almost befallen her and Talfa was enough to make her feel slightly dizzy and weak with relief. It was one thing to sleep away one's fears, but another thing…to not awaken until the world ended, that was just as horrifying to her as the idea of the surface was to the gnome. She never even thought of worlds ending…Tahalset lived and would live on forever, and she had assumed Narnia would as well. 

"Except for you." The gnome turned his attention back to Sara. "I saw you and him enter the cavern and almost sleep, and then you escaped. How did you escape? None have ever left once they entered that cavern."

"And how do you know this?"

"I guard it," He replied. "I've been guarding it for eight years now."

"That has to be boring," Talfa interrupted. "Standing in the same place for all that time."

"It is my punishment," The gnome replied absently, looking down at the ground. "It is only right that I should stand guard here for what I did."

"And what is that?" Sara asked. She wanted to ask where he came from, and if there were others, but she had a feeling that he wasn't going to tell her just yet. She had to ask questions slowly…but she knew she'd get it out of him in the end, because if he had been guarding a cavern like _that _for eight years, he would be desperate for some kind of living contact.

The gnome shifted uncomfortably. "I stole," he replied.

"What's wrong with that?" demanded Talfa. "Everyone steals things. I did too."

The gnome looked horrified at Talfa. "But…it is stealing! And you weren't punished?"

"My mother told me never to do it again," Talfa replied unsurely. 

"What did you steal?" asked Sara. 

"I stole the gem that…" but then he cut off abruptly. "Can't tell you. Can't tell Overworlders. But then…" he looked very confused. "But every single creature that has found its way down here has lied down in the cave and never woke. None of them have found their way back to the surface. Few return to the sunlit lands."

"Stop saying that," Talfa said. 

"That is the truth," he shrugged. "And I guard the caves to make sure that none of the creatures wake, even though it will never happen. Unless it is the end of the world but then everyone will know when _that _comes about." He looked at Sara and Talfa. "I don't know what to do with you," he said unsurely. "No one ever crosses the caves awake."

"You can show us the way to the surface," Sara said. "And we will leave your world, no harm done."

"Can't do that." He banged his spear on the ground. "I'm not bringing you to the surface."

"Then find someone who will?" she offered.

"No one will! No one wants to go. You shouldn't be out here anyway. You should be in there sleeping."

"Well we're not," Talfa said.

"And we're not going back there," Sara added severely. "Don't even think of making us. I won't have it." Of course she was still sitting on the ground and doubted she could do much damage to the strange gnome anyway. The cavern had taken away all her energy and she had only enough left to get back to Harfang. She still had her ankle to attend to, and it was hurting even worse now.

"No," replied the gnome. "I won't do that. But what do I do?" His face twisted into what Sara assumed was a ponderous expression, though it only served to make his face resemble a desiccated pumpkin. "Council never told me anything about this," he muttered to himself. "Never said what to do if they escape. Said they never escape and I wouldn't have to worry about anything. Said just to watch and make sure they don't wake up. Said to guard the entrance. I did that. Guarded the entrance." He scowled. "Now I've got this. Giant's going to squash me. Overworlders going to squash me. Really dangerous. Going to get killed now…"

"We're not going to kill you," Sara interrupted. "Really, we just want to get back to the surface again."

"Guess so," he replied. "Can't let you go though."

"Why not?"

"Not allowed. Others will be angry."

"What others?" Sara asked as casually as she could.

"All the others. The council. They won't like it. Don't like much of anything when it comes to thieves. But I suppose it's my fault. I didn't like the council."

"What council?"

"From the…" then he cut off again. "Say, why do you want to know anyway? You're just an Overworlder,"

"I've never seen anything like this."

"No." then he turned away. "Have to _ask _the council." He said to himself. "Don't want to ask them. Don't know what to do. They'll know." Then he addressed Sara again. "I have to ask them. Have to go back and ask them. You have to stay here." He pointed to her and Talfa. "Both of you. I know it's not allowed and they'll be terribly angry with me but you're not supposed to be here but you are. I must ask them. Don't leave."

Without another word, the gnome turned and padded off down the passage, the light fading away and leaving Sara and Talfa alone.

"What was _that _all about?" asked Talfa, looking extremely puzzled as he tried to figure it out.

Sara watched the retreating figure of the gnome. "Gods be damned if I know," she replied, shaking her head. "Doesn't help us at all, though…if there are others, it doesn't seem like they're going to be inclined to help us find our way back." Then how _would_ they get back? 

There'd be a way. If she couldn't find one, she'd do it herself. Either way, she and Talfa were not going to be trapped underground until they died.

"I think we should go further along down that passage," she said. "That other fellow went there, clearly there is something there. If we find it, maybe it will help us."

"But you can't walk," frowned Talfa.

"I'll be fine," she said. One shouldn't go walking around with a sprained ankle, but she'd have to do her best. She left the cloth she had used to tie it before back in the cavern, and this time had to take out her knife and slice off a piece of her dress to tie it as tight as she could without cutting off the circulation. Then with Talfa's aid she managed to stand and put a little pressure on it. It still hurt, but this was bearable. 

"I don't want to go further," Talfa said. "I want to go back home. I don't like it underground like this."

"I know, Talfa," Sara replied in the most soothing voice she could muster. "But we have to go on, otherwise we will have to go back through the cavern. Do you want to do that?"

"No!" Talfa exclaimed. "Never!"

"Then we have to continue on. Keep your hand out, I can't walk entirely by myself." 

They looked very much the odd pair as Sara illuminated the dark tunnel with her power, knowing well that each magical work she did now was dangerous with her energy so low, but knowing also that there was no other choice. She clung to Talfa's hand and he supported her as they walked slowly down the tunnel, until Talfa's head scraped the ceiling and he cried out.

"It's too short," Talfa said. "I can't go any further."

Sara let go of his hand to get a better look at the tunnel. It was narrowing now…Talfa was hunching over, and any further he would have to sit down and any further than that he wouldn't be able to move at all. She looked ahead and only saw the tunnel sloping downward, slightly steeper now and much narrower.

"Then you'll have to stay here," Sara said nervously. She didn't like that idea, feeling as weak as she did and not knowing what lie ahead. But Talfa couldn't go on and somebody had to, elsewise they wouldn't find a different way back to the surface.

"Don't leave me!" Talfa insisted. "I don't like it here. I hate the dark, don't go without me."

"I promise you'll be safe."

"I don't know. It's too dark. I'm going to get lost."

"You won't get lost if you stay here. I'll just go a little further and then come back, and then I'll tell you what I find. And don't worry, I will always be able to find any of you no matter where I go. I promise."

Talfa covered his face with his hands, and Sara didn't want to leave the poor thing, but knew it was the only way to help them both. She kept walking unsteadily on her own down the passage as it grew smaller, and soon left Talfa behind altogether, wandering on her own through the darkness.

* * *

Mullugutherum knew they weren't going to believe him. He just didn't know how bad it was going to be…how badly they weren't going to believe him…until he saw Thark's face. Then he knew he was done for. 

He was done for since the beginning, of course. First he was defying orders by going back, despite the fact that his punishment to guard the cave of the sleepers was still ongoing. He wasn't allowed to go back until someone came for him and released him from that obligation. Until then…unwavering and strong, every minute of the day he was to stand there. But he didn't, he left and went back. And if that alone wasn't bad enough, he went banging on the elders' doors and asking them for advice. Already he had overstepped boundaries so far that he was sure they'd throw him in prison for life the moment everything returned to normal.

It took at least two hours before he finally convinced them that he was telling the truth. And now they were believing him, and somehow that made everything all the _worse, _for now Mullugutherum had to lead the elders and their guards down one of the tunnels until they found these so-called overworlders that he was talking about. Thark kept prodding him with his spear, and Thanagel made noises around every bend to indicate the low opinion that he had of Mullugutherum.

When they finally reached the spot, the smaller overworlder wasn't there anymore. There was only the giant one that had almost squashed him.

"There! See?" Mullugutherum pointed and looked anxiously back at the elders. "I told you."

Thark gave him a withering look and he immediately shut up. The other guards spread out around the two elders, and the giant merely looked bewildered.

"Who are you?" the giant said warily.

Thark banged the end of his spear hard against the ground. He wasn't tall enough to reach the giant, but came at least partway up the giant's shin, and stared at the creature with his long trunk twitching. Thark always did that when he was nervous, and it gave Mullugutherum slight satisfaction to see the elder actually afraid of something. Thark opened his mouth to say something, but for once seemed at a loss for words.

"Ahem," Thanagel cleared his throat and stepped forward next to the speechless Thark. He was shorter and fatter, and his double chin and long ears that hung all the way down to his shoulders wobbled when he spoke. He clapped his hands together and it got the giant's attention, for his flat hands looked more like mole claws than real hands, and were very loud when he chose to make them such. Surprisingly, Thanagel was showing more courage than Thark.

"Is this the overworlder?" asked Thanagel.

Mullugutherum didn't say anything at first. 

"Speak when spoken to, thief!" snapped Thark, taking this opportunity to walk away from the giant and give Mullugutherum a harsh poke with his spear.

"Yes, elder," he cringed away from Thark's spear.

"You said there were two," Thark said. "I only see one."

"There were two. I don't know where the other one went. She was smaller than this one." Mullugutherum added quickly. "I'll go get her?"

Thark snorted. "I am not letting you out of my sight, thief…"

He was going to say more, but was cut off by Thanagel, who boldly addressed the giant.

"Excuse me," He said. "There was another one of you, I am told. Where did the other one go?"

The giant looked at Thanagel with a large, suspicious eye. "I'm not telling _you,_" the giant said pointedly. "I have to protect our lady and won't let you go around poking her with your sharp pointy things like you do that one." He pointed a meaty finger at Mullugutherum.

"Put the spear away," hissed Thanagel.

"Not here," replied Thark.

"The guards will protect you." 

Thark was reluctant, but handed the spear over to one of the guards, a beaky fellow covered in thick fur. 

"There," Thanagel said. "Look, no harm done. We won't hurt you or whoever else was with you, on my honor."

"Do you promise?" the giant demanded.

"Yes, I promise," Thanagel said, nodding in agreement. This seemed to placate the giant, for he resumed a less threatening posture. "Now, where is the other one?"

"She went down that passage," the giant pointed down where they had just come. "She said she'd be back later. But she's not back yet. I hope she's not lost. And I still want to go back! I hate it underground."

Thark and Thanagel exchanged glances, then Thanagel took Thark's arm and they both walked over and stood apart from the rest of the group and talked in low voices, surrounded by guards.

Well, at least now they believed him. Mullugutherum wouldn't lie. He may have been a thief…but that was years ago! And he'd never do it again, ever. Of course he couldn't, condemned as he was, and no one would ever get Thark to part from his half again. Right now it dangled from his neck, not even shimmering the slightest bit. It looked unthreatening, which was of course why the giant took no notice of that and entirely focused on the spear. Even now Mullugutherum eyed it, remembering the smooth feel of the gem in his hands, cool on the outside but glimmering with an inner warmth, and the tingle that it sent through his entire body when he touched it…

"Eyes off!" One of the guards noticed Mullugutherum looking at Thark's necklace and immediately struck his shoulder with the butt of his spear. "We won't have that again, now."

Mullugutherum dropped his eyes and skittered away from the guard. The guard kept watching him. Mullugutherum didn't look but instead strained to listen to the faint voices of the Elders. He didn't know what could they possibly to with the overworlders. All overworlders fell asleep in the cavern and that was it. There was no record of any who didn't. But of course they were the elders, they'd be able to figure it out. They knew everything. At least, that was the impression that they gave.

"You there, thief," Thark and Thanagel strode back over to Mullugutherum, and Thark pointed with his spear, eyes narrowing. "Two overworlders came down here, only one of them is here now. You are to find the other one and bring it back to us now."

"But, elder," Mullugutherum began protesting. "I don't know what…"

"Did you not hear your orders? Go and do it now!"

Mullugutherum wanted to protest further…he didn't know what overworlders were capable of, and while the larger one was more threatening, the smaller one looked crazy. And the last thing Mullugutherum wanted was to be around a crazy overworlder who could do strange and terrible things from that land.

He was beginning to think he shouldn't have gone to fetch the elders in the first place. But what else could he do? He hesitated a moment longer before Thark took a threatening step forward, and the fear of what Thark would do to him was far greater than that of a mysterious overworlder, and he darted back down the passage, clutching his lantern as if it was the only defense between him and certain doom. 

It took him awhile, a good half an hour, before he found the overworlder. She was leaning against the wall of the passage, staring on ahead. 

Mullugutherum held the lantern up. "What, overworlder!" He barked, trying to sound important. She didn't know he was only a thief.

The overworlder turned around to look at him. 

"What do you want?" she demanded. Her voice sounded weak and tired. 

"Orders," he replied. "I have strict orders to bring you back to the elders this instant."

"What elders?" She asked.

"The elders," Mullugutherum said uncomfortably. They were the elders, what more was there to say? Unless they didn't have elders in the Overworld. But what else would they have? "They want to see you. You and the giant both, and you were gone, so they sent me after you."

"Ah," she answered faintly. "Well, I'm afraid I can't walk all that way back, whichever way it is. I'm lost."

"I see that," Mullugutherum replied with mild disgust. "If you keep going along this way, you're going to end up in one of the pits. Or you'll fall straight through into the sea."

She grimaced, not liking that idea. 

"But you have to come with me."

"I can't walk," she snapped back. "Or did you miss that the first time?"

He stepped back from her. "The elders can help you walk again," he said unsurely. "They can help with just about anything, if you come back with me. You can use my spear." He held it out to her. It was blunt and couldn't do that much damage, but it made a good walking stick. 

The overworlder hesitated, but then took his spear. "I will go with you, then," she said. "But only so that I may return to the surface. I've seen more of this cursed underworld than I cared to." She added, looking around at the passage.

"What's wrong with it?" Mullugutherum challenged, indicating for her to follow him down the tunnel. "Other than being too close to the surface." He said with a shudder.

"It's not too close," she replied, leaning all her weight on the spear. It sank into the ground, and she held the point away from her. "It's too far, it's horribly dark, dank, and far too easy to get lost. I won't spend the rest of my life wandering around some dark underworld. It's like something out of the stories of my homeland, where Tiendra had to descend into the underworld to rescue his best friend, who had stolen something from the gods and was cast into the underworld for eternity."

Mullugutherum flinched. "That's a real story?" he said.

"Yes. Why?"

"I stole something," he whispered. "And they exiled me to guard the caves forever because of that. Not from any gods, from one of the elders."

"What did you steal?"

He didn't want to say. He wasn't allowed to say. But he hated the elders so much sometimes, both for exiling him to that cursed place, for making him stand guard over a sleeping cave for all eternity, for making him live alone so close to the surface. It was so horribly lonely, standing in front of that cave with only the snores of sleeping beasts for company. There were times he prayed for the end of the world so that they would awaken and he could go home. 

"I stole Thark's half," he blurted.

No comment from the overworlder. It was that bad, Mullugutherum knew. His thievery was so horrid that even those who didn't live here knew about it.

"What, that's it?" her voice came.

Mullugutherum turned around in shock. "That's it? What do you mean, that's it? I stole Thark's _half! _There's nothing worse a person can do than that!"

"Well, I'm not from here," she retorted. "As you've so often pointed out, I'm from the overworld, and we don't have a thark or a half, though I don't know what your thark has half _of _that makes it so terrible to steal."

"Thark. He's one of the elders."

"Oh. Well, we don't have elders."

"What do you have, then?" Mullugutherum wanted to get the subject quickly away from Thark's half before she asked him anything else. All the others knew about it, but who knows what overworlders would do with Thark's half? Maybe the same thing Mullugutherum wanted…but then again, Mullugutherum was never entirely sure why he tried to steal it in the first place. Madness, boredom, bravery, idiocy, he didn't know.

"Depends on where you go. In Harfang, there is a king and a queen of the giants, and I am there, too."

"You a queen or something?"

"No." she shook her head. "The queen answers to me."

"And what's above you? Your elders?"

"In Harfang? No one is above me."

She walked slower than the elders, and for once he didn't have to race to catch up as he did every time he was with them.

Finally they reached the spot again, where the giant was holding a terrified Thark in its huge hand and baring its teeth menacingly, and Thanagel was waving his arms and his ears were flapping madly as he was shouting orders both at the guards and at Thark, trying to get him to calm down. Thark was pointing his staff at the giant but it had absolutely no effect to speak of.

"Talfa!" the overworlder brushed past Mullugutherum, walking the best she could over to the giant. "Talfa, put that…that…down this instant!"

The giant looked at her. "But lady," the giant whined. "It kept waving its staff all around and they were trying to throw the spears at me and get me to go back into the cavern," the giant said. "And I didn't want to go, I absolutely won't! So they tried to force me back."

"They did that?" her eyes narrowed as she looked at Thanagel. "And why would you? Has Talfa done anything to harm you at all?"

"No," Thanagel replied. "But you must understand, see, we have a policy…"

"That involves attacking others in order to satisfy that policy?"

"Listen, miss…"

"Talfa, put it down." She didn't even give Thanagel a change to finish talking. The giant reluctantly put Thark on the floor. Thark straightened and adjusted his robes and walked back over to Thanagel, trying his best…Mullugutherum could tell…not to show his blind terror.

"Now," the lady said again, leaning heavily on the spear. "Your…friend here…" she indicated Mullugutherum, "brought me back here. She said that someone called the elders wanted to speak with me. Who are these elders?"

"I am," Thanagel stepped forward. "And so is he." Thanagel took Thark's arm and moved him forward. Thark was almost yellow with fear. 

"Very well. What is the problem?"

Thanagel looked at Thark, but it was clear that Thark wasn't going to be any help in this situation. Thanagel cleared his throat and said,

"Many overworlders…"

"He's not going to say it _again, _is he?" the giant interrupted. He was silenced with a glare from the lady.

"Many overworlders find their way down here, one way or another. Often it's from the tunnels…there used to be an ancient king who ruled on the surface, and he build his tomb underground. Eventually those tombs and tunnels grew and found their way down here. The cavern of sleepers was our own guard against overworlders." Thanagel pointed down in the cavern's general direction. "You see, we are but poor gnomes from the land of Bism. We have heard of terrible things happening in Overland…murder, deception, lies…and the worst we heard was a winter that lasted a hundred years. We didn't want anything like that to come down here to the Shallow Lands, for if they did, it was possible that they could find their way down to Bism. We took precautions against that, too." But he didn't say what, nor did he tell this overworlder what Bism was. Mullugutherum knew that was smart, and so did Thark, whose hand reached instinctively for the jewel that hung around his neck. "This cavern has always been here, but we opened it and made the tunnel lead there. Anyone who finds their way into that cavern falls asleep, and will wake only at the end of the world. Mullugutherum here has guarded the cave for years now, and has never seen any leave. You both are the first to not succumb to the sleep, and we want to know why."

The giant looked confused, but the lady was looking thoughtful, like she was measuring each of Thanagel's words carefully. 

"I am not quite sure," she said finally. "One of my giants…he fell down one of the passages that you mentioned. It was very strange, as that has never happened before in Harfang…the place in…what did you call it?"

"Overworld," replied Thanagel.

"Yes. It was a curious disappearance, so myself and Talfa…" she indicated the giant. "Came down to investigate. We found the disappeared giant in the cavern, and both Talfa and I were going to fall asleep, as the rest had. I knew it wasn't right…see, I'm an enchantress and I can recognize magic like that. The sleep was unnatural and I knew we had to get out of there, or else we would fall asleep ourselves. I managed to get Talfa and myself out, but I'm still not sure how. Determination, perhaps, I don't know. I am not from this world, that might be part of it as well." She gave a small shrug. "Listen, I'm sorry I did that, but I mean you no harm. If you could just find a way for Talfa and myself to return to the surface, we will be on our way and not bother you any longer." She added a slight bow to this, the best she could, still holding the spear.

"Ah," Thanagel looked hesitant. "I'm afraid…we can't do that. Can we, Thark?"

Thark nodded stiffly, still petrified.

"And why is that?" the lady asked.

"Because that is the law," Thanagel replied, giving another look at Thark, and then a frustrated sigh when all Thark did was nod again. "Many sink to the bottom, but few return to the sunlit lands. I'm afraid we mean it when we say that. We don't want anyone to know of our lands…we don't want influence from the surface, you see. We're trying to keep it protected. We can't let either one of you come back. If you can get through the cavern of sleepers, it's, it's a risk, you see." Now Thanagel looked uncomfortable. He coughed and looked away from both the lady and the giant, while Thark just continued to nod.

"Can't return us?" the lady's voice was soft. "Why not? I will swear in the name of every god that I believe in that we will not tell anyone of this place." She held up her hand. "On my honor, Yarrin strike me down if I lie."

"Oh we believe you, yes," Thanagel added quickly. "But, we just can't, see, it's the rule."

Almost immediately, the giant wailed, "They won't take us back?"

"Hold on, Talfa, I'm still talking to them." The lady replied. "Listen, if you don't take us back, where do you intend on keeping us?"

Thanagel looked at Thark again, and still got no response. It was obvious to Mullugutherum that Thark's lack of response was getting Thanagel annoyed and short tempered, and unfortunate things happened when Thanagel lost his temper.

"Well," Thanagel began. "We could always…always…Thark, do you have any ideas on the subject?"

"Put them back in the cavern and get them out of here," Thark said very quickly, eyeing the giant nervously.

"We're not going back." The lady replied almost instantly. "I refuse to go back through that cavern, and Talfa surely agrees with me. If you could just take us back we will be grateful. I see that there is no other place for us to go but back to the surface."

"But that is not allowed." Thanagel insisted. "We can't take you back, and all that besides, none of us gnomes…we won't dare go to the surface. No one will. The idea is too horrible." All the guards accentuated this statement with a shudder. "I'm sorry, but we can't take you back."

"No!" The giant's voice raised. "No! I won't stay down here! I won't!"

"Neither of us will," the lady replied, and it was obvious that she was trying hard to remain calm. "Seeing that there is nowhere else for us to go but back."

"Or into the cave," Thark repeated. "I think we should do that. Send them back into the cave."

"I won't go back there either!" the giant howled. "I want to go back home!" The giant, in retaliation, slammed his fist against the wall. A shower of dirt rained down on them, and Thark looked like he was going to pass out. "Make them take us home, lady! I don't want to stay here!" another bang.

"What is he doing?" Thanagel shouted above the racket.

"He's afraid!" the lady replied. "Talfa hates the underground and only came because I wanted him to come. Please, he's terrified, send him back. Send us both back."

Bang, bang, bang. "He's going to bring this tunnel down on our heads!" roared Thanagel. "Guards! Stop him!"

"He's only frightened!" the lady shouted back. "If you let us go, we will…"

"Home! I hate it here! Make them take us back!" the giant, completely given over to fear and claustrophobia, pummeled both fists against the wall of the tunnel. "Let me go!"

"Talfa!" the lady put her hands over her ears. "Talfa, stop that this instant!" but he didn't hear her, and if he did, ignored her completely. "Gods above, Talfa, you're going to kill us all if you keep that up!"

Still nothing. Then there was a shudder and a section of the tunnel collapsed, burying one of the guards entirely. The others leaped out of the way, but more and more dirt was dislodged and the walls were growing unstable. 

"Talfa! I order you to stop!" she almost screamed. But the giant continued to ignore her and wailed, seemingly determined to bring the tunnel down, like that would get him to the surface. 

"Thark! Stop him!" Thanagel, petrified of being buried alive, pushed Thark forward at the giant. "Come on, Thark!"

Thark touched the jewel and muttered something…nothing happened. Then Thark pointed his spear in a more dangerous manner. 

"Do something!"

"Don't hurt him!" shouted the lady at the same time. But Thark was just as terrified as Talfa was, and with a swift and terrible motion, Thark leaned back and threw the spear full force at Talfa.

The spear struck the giant in the throat. And even though it was a giant, Thark's spear was made of metal from the very bottom of the world, and it easily pierced even the thick flesh of the giant's throat. There was a spray of blood, and Talfa's voice was choked off abruptly. His fists stopped beating and his body fell backwards, thick blood pooling on the ground below his body. Thark was breathing heavily, and just about fainting.

"I had to do it," Thark gasped. "I had to. Or we'd all die." 

The lady turned around very slowly to look at Thark. Despite the fact that she was underground and this was not her natural habitat, and the fact that she had hurt her leg or something (as far as Mullugutherum could tell), she suddenly looked dangerous.

"How dare you," she said softly. "You had no right to do that, to kill Talfa like that. I would have been able to get him under control if you had given me the time." 

"He was going to kill us all," Thanagel spoke up. "I'm sure Thark didn't mean to do it. I don't want to kill people, you see, but the other option was…our deaths."

"I could have gotten him under control," the lady's voice was shaking now, though with what emotion, Mullugutherum couldn't decipher. "I have the capabilities of doing that. And yet you seem to deem this senseless murder alright."

"It wasn't senseless!" Thanagel protested.

"Then I, too, shall commit a senseless murder." She replied. "And perhaps you shall see why I am so opposed to it, yes?"

Then much to all their surprise, she drew a knife…it didn't look like much more than a chopping knife, but it glinted in the light of their lanterns. 

"Put that down," Thanagel said.

"No," she replied. "I'm afraid not." And in a swift motion, the grabbed Thark's arm and pulled him over to her. Thark was still too afraid to protest and let himself be taken. She pressed the knife to his throat. "How much will you pay for this leader of yours? For the elder?" she replied. "I think it is a fair trade. The death of my giant, one of my most trusted…for the death of your leader."

"What are you doing? No!"

But the knife flashed against Thark's throat. A second body joined Talfa's as Thark's constantly twitching trunk stopped, and blood stained the front of his fancy robes. The lady stepped away from him, her spear falling as well, holding the knife in her hands and looking down at the dead elder. She put her weight on her foot and winced. 

"There," she said. "There. Now we are even." 

The guards didn't move. Neither did Mullugutherum, or even Thanagel for a moment. Mullugutherum was horrified. He was a thief, the worst thing in the eyes of Bism folk. Murder wasn't even considered a crime because it simply wasn't done. No one in Bism ever killed another. The cavern of the sleepers was just protection and no one was harmed, they were just sent into eternal sleep but they would wake someday. And what Thark did, well, the giant wasn't from Bism, and he was doing it to protect Bismfolk.

Thievery was the worst crime there was. What this lady did…was…impossible. 

Even worse, she had killed an elder. Thark and Thanagel had been elders for quite some years now, there was age and wisdom behind them. Now Thark was gone. Who was going to be elder now? They had no one lined up, and during this…this…

Mullugutherum was hiding behind the guards, clutching the lantern tightly, and even he recognized this as some sort of crisis.

"Arrest her," Thanagel ordered, but his voice was unsure. 

The guards didn't move. 

"I said arrest her!" Thanagel shrieked, pulling on both of his long ears in absolute confusion and fear. What would happen if she killed him, too? Without elders, the society would collapse, wouldn't it? 

The guards all moved forward and pointed their spears at the unprotesting overworlder. She looked at them and calmly took a handful of her long skirt and used it to clean the knife free of the blood. She didn't even seem to notice that any second now they were going to use their spears if she made a sudden movement. Mullugutherum could have warned her, they did it to him all the time. Every time he stepped out of line, it was poke, prod, poke, jab, again and again. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a squeak emerged. No one even noticed him. 

Mullugutherum wanted to go home. He'd rather guard the cave then be around with all of _this_ happening. 

Thanagel still didn't know what to do. He looked frantically from each guard, and even let his eyes rest on Mullugutherum for a moment before he realized what he was doing and turned away in disgust. There were always two elders, and they always made their decisions together. Now Thanagel looked completely lost and fearful that any decision he made would be wrong since he didn't have another person to back him up.

He walked over to Thark's body, making a point of not looking at the dead elder's eyes as he removed the jewel from Thark's neck and put it around his own. He touched Thark's forehead and then the jewels, twice, no, three times for good measure, and then looked back at the guards. They were still rooted to the spot, and one of them was looking at the thief…as if _he_ would know anything.

"We could just take her back or something," Mullugutherum said.

Thanagel looked at him, shocked that Mullugutherum had addressed an elder without proper respectful titles, and further, offered an opinion without being first asked.

"Did you speak to me, thief?" Thanagel asked.

"Just an idea," Mullugutherum dropped his eyes. "I didn't mean to speak out of turn, elder, please forgive me."

Thanagel said nothing, only began pacing back and forth. "That's unheard of. No one ever comes to Bism."

Unless invited, but Mullugutherum knew better than to speak up again. 

"But I don't see any other choice. She murdered…" a collective shudder ran through everyone present except for the lady. Then Thanagel cleared his throat and addressed the lady directly.

"You will come with me," he said.

"No," the lady replied.

"Yes. You will. You have no other choice. Guards?" Three guards promptly went behind the lady and prodded her with their spears, and a fourth took away the one that Mullugutherum had given her. It took her by surprise and her weight fell on her injured ankle, and he saw her bite her lip hard. "You have no choice but to come back with us. If you try to escape, we'll kill you now." That was a lie, Mullugutherum knew. The giant's death was an accident, brought on by Thark's terror. Bism folk never killed anyone. "Guards, lead her forward." The guards continued to prod with their spears, and she had no choice but to limp forward at their urging. 

"I can't walk any further," she said, stopping abruptly, her face ashen.

"Fine," Thanagel replied. "Then we'll…thief, go over and support her as we lead her back." 

Mullugutherum nodded and skittered over. He was shorter than the overworlder, and she pressed her hand on his shoulder and leaned heavily on it. 

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"Back with us,"

"I refuse to go further underground."

"You have no choice." The guards continued to press her forward, and she walked awkwardly, balancing still on Mullugutherum. Thanagel said nothing and the guards continued.

"Where are we going?" she asked. It took Mullugutherum a moment to realize that she was talking to him. That was odd, no one usually did that. But overworlders didn't go by the same rules that the real people did. 

"They are taking you back to Bism," Mullugutherum replied, secretly shocked that Thanagel would do such a thing. But Thanagel was desperate, and desperate elders…especially him…would do very drastic and often shocking things. "I don't know what they're going to do once you are there. No one ever goes into Bism except for the people who live there. But you killed an elder, and no one ever does that." His voice dropped down to a whisper on that. "So I don't know what they're going to do. But don't try and escape, because elder Thanagel is really angry." And really lost, he wanted to add, but knew better incase he was overheard.

"What's Bism?"

Overworlders really _were _ignorant, Mullugutherum thought. They thought of nothing but that big horrible sky over their heads and the land that they ran over and their stars, if that's what they called them. If they didn't even know about Bism…

"It's home," Mullugutherum replied, and for some reason that made the overworlder flinch.

That's all she said to him, and Mullugutherum was thankful for the silence. He didn't know what to say to an overworlder who was terrible enough to do murder, and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of another one of Thanagel's glares. 

The tunnel twisted and turned and sloped downward, until eventually they reached the docks. The boat that they had taken in was waiting for them still. Thanagel marched up onto the boat with his guards, and Mullugutherum had to do his best to keep up. The lady didn't say anything until they boarded the boat, and then she collapsed onto the floor and leaned against the inside wall of the boat. Three guards surrounded her and Mullugutherum, and they were all silent.

"Where are we now?" she asked. The guards said nothing, and it took Mullugutherum yet another moment to realize she was speaking to him again. He was addressed twice in one day. It made him feel uneasy.

"We're going back to Bism," he replied. 

"Oh." Though she didn't sound satisfied. Of course, she had no idea what any of this was.

"The entrance to Bism lies across the Sunless Sea," Mullugutherum explained. "We're only in the Shallow Lands. Across the Sea is…the entrance to Bism," he finished with a shrug. 

"There's an entire ocean underground? That's peculiar."

"No, it's not. It's always been here."

"Another guard to keep people away from your lands?"

"I don't know. I'm a thief, why are you asking me? People don't tell me things."

"But since you live here, surely you must know."

Why was she prying so much? Mullugutherum didn't know anything. If she wanted real information, she should talk to Thanagel. But of course Thanagel wasn't going to say anything to her…he was deeply afraid she would turn the knife on him and kill him too. Everyone knew that overworlders had no morals, and this proved it. 

"I don't," Mullugutherum shifted uncomfortably. "This is just the way it's done. You take the ship from the Pale Beaches across the Sunless Sea, and then you get to the entrance to Bism." He shrugged. There really wasn't much else to say.

"Why did you kill the elder?" he asked abruptly, and she blinked at the frankness of the question.

"Because I didn't know what else to do," she answered.

"So you _kill _people?" 

The lady didn't say anything else, and it was deathly quiet for the rest of the ride. The guards stood still as statues and Thanagel stood at the prow, pacing back and forth, his long robes brushing the floor and making soft, annoying shushing noises. Mullugutherum grew more and more nervous by the minute, the silence drawing on as they continued to travel across the quiet water. It was this indecision, that's what Mullugutherum knew was getting on everyone's nerves. Normally things were done by now. People knew things. Now, no one had the faintest inclination of what to do.

That brought the slightest feeling of satisfaction to Mullugutherum, though he knew that was a shameful. The elders treated thieves the way everyone did. He had made a terrible mistake. But all thieves held that deep resentment of the ancient tradition that made it so that thieves were scorned the way they were. Seeing one as great and important as an elder acting lost and confused was enough to make even the worst thief feel slightly better, for deep down the elders were no better than they. Mullugutherum watched with fascination as Thanagel paced back and forth, stopping only to impatiently tap his spear on the prow. As if that would make it go any faster. It was just a spear. 

Finally they reached the opposite shore, and Thanagel disembarked immediately. The lady didn't move at first, and it took Mullugutherum a moment before he realized she was asleep.

"Then wake her up," grunted Thanagel.

Mullugutherum tried, prodding the overworlder a few times until she finally stirred.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied, then closed her eyes again. 

"She's not going to go," Mullugutherum called back.

"Then carry her!" Thanagel shouted back.

Mullugutherum turned his gaze back on the unresponsive overworlder. She was too large for him to carry, and too heavy. It would never work.

"I can't do it, elder," Mullugutherum almost whined. He knew he should make every effort to in order to please the elder, but he simply couldn't!

Thanagel came back on the ship and brushed impatiently past Mullugutherum, knocking him to the side. "Curse all this," Thanagel muttered, shaking his head. "This is the worst possible day I can think of." He reached out with the staff and gave the overworlder a shake.

"What?" she opened both her eyes. "I told you, I'm not going any further. I can't walk, and I don't know where you're taking me, so unless you tell me or find a way to bring me I'm not leaving this ship,"

Thanagel hissed in frustration. She was going against an elder's direct orders to move, and when he continued to try, she continued to resist. No one ever resisted an elder, not even Mullugutherum, no matter how many times he may have wanted to. It was somewhat of a brave thing to do, even if she didn't know why.

"You have to move," Thanagel insisted.

"I'm not," she closed her eyes and rested her head against the plank again. "Not unless you find a way to move me. Otherwise I am staying here and sleeping until I am rested." 

"You must listen to me," Thanagel was agitated now too. 

"Why? I don't even know you. You won't take me back to the surface…I don't even know where you are taking me now. And you killed Talfa. I don't plan on listening to you anytime soon."

The guards all exchanged glances, and even Mullugutherum was horrified at the overworlder's words. _No one _talked like that to an elder, no matter who they were! Thanagel looked absolutely appalled and at a loss for words.

"Well…" Thanagel protested.

All the overworlder did was readjust her position and close her eyes, settling against the side of the ship and apparently going to sleep. When she didn't move for a full five minutes, Thanagel…well, it seemed he was desperate enough to look at Mullugutherum.

"Well?" Thanagel said. "What do we do now?"

It wasn't like an elder to ask advice of anyone except another elder, and it was clear that Thanagel was feeling the loss of Thark more than anyone else. 

"We could just wait until she awakens," Mullugutherum suggested, daring to speak up. He looked away almost immediately.

"I suppose so," replied Thanagel. "It's…the only thing we can do." And so he too sat down and tugged on his ears, and the guards sat down and surrounded the overworlder, all constantly glancing at one another. 

Mullugutherum remained where he was, and was thankfully being ignored by Thanagel again. He never thought he'd be grateful for that, but now…oh, this was too strange. But at the same time, fascinating…his eyes slid briefly to the sleeping overworlder. He didn't know what to make of it. An elder was doing what she wanted. That never happened. Murder never happened, elders never died of anything except natural causes, and people never escaped from the cavern of the sleepers and stayed on boats instead of going down to Bism. Yet all of that, here it was. Mullugutherum was at a loss. Yet he looked at the overworlder and couldn't deny a peculiar interest that went far beyond his normal fascination with those in power. In one day, this strange person had made several impossible things happen, and didn't seem to notice…or care.

It made him wonder, with not just a little fear, what more she was capable of doing.

* * *

The last thing Sara expected when she woke was a small, wrinkled face with squinty eyes several inches from hers. Instinctively she tried to back away from it, but found she was already resting against the wall. The creature seemed just as surprised as she, for it gave a small yelp and scampered backwards.

Sleeping on the boat was definitely not a good idea. Then again, nothing really was, but Sara had run out of good ideas years ago, so it seemed. Her last good idea…well, that involved leaping into a tunnel after a lost giant. In the process she had lost not only Yarag, but Talfa too. Yarrin's claws, this couldn't get any worse. Yarag was now going to sleep forever and awake at the end of the world, and now Talfa…she'd thrown away Talfa's life, and for what? The giant only wanted to get back to the surface, and she had forgotten entirely how claustrophobic Talfa was. He had depended on her to get him out safe and alive, and she had failed to do that. And she could have gotten him back under control, damn it all! 

Sara had no idea where she was now. Miles underground in a boat, of course, but that didn't help at all. She didn't know anything existed below the surface, yet apparently there was…more than she could have imagined. There was an entire sea underground, and a bism, though gods only knew what that was. But it was where they were taking her.

No doubt they would. She had been so angry at Talfa's murder that she had killed one of them. They had called him an elder, which was some sort of important person, some kind of authority in this land. And that was easier than the Shrew back in Cair Paravel, oh, here all it took was a thought and the quick decision that she wanted the elder dead. He was, and now these…creatures…were all terrified of her.

Fine, let them be. It didn't matter to her. 

She only regretted that right now she wasn't sure how she was going to get back to the surface, and how her giants would be at a total loss when neither she nor Talfa returned. Janile should be able to take care of things, but still. She trusted Janile but one was never sure when it came to giants.

She had to get back. But how? How, when she didn't even know where she was?

"Did I wake you up?" a voice whispered. It was that gnome again. What did he want?

"Yes," she said irritably, though it wasn't true. She shifted and flinched when her ankle moved too. Damn. That was something she was going to have to fix. At least she was rested now. When they took her on the boat, she didn't want to admit it to them, but any second she was going to pass out with exhaustion. She could barely stand when they took her on board, and when they arrived, movement would have been pretty much impossible. She was so tired that she wanted to cry and cover her head and make them all disappear and let her sleep, but that sort of thing wasn't possible down here. She wouldn't move any further until she slept, and thankfully…though she wasn't fully rested, that sort of thing would be impossible underground on a boat…she was better than before. She knew some of her strength had returned.

"Sorry," the gnome replied.

She didn't say anything, only moved her fingers over her pouches in her belt, making sure everything was in order. Yes, all her powders were there. But her book, where was her book?

"Where's my book?" she demanded, opening the pouch and looking inside. It was empty. Almost immediately she felt panic race through her…no, her book couldn't be gone. Could she have lost it along the way? No! She needed her book! She was so far removed from her world that the book was the only thing teaching her how to use her magic. It still worked, and without it…oh, she didn't know enough yet to be without it! 

"What book?"

"My book! It's gone! I always have it with me!" she looked at the gnome. "Did you see me drop it along the way? I can't have lost it. I just can't." 

The gnome shrank from her, and that annoyed her too. 

"Find my book!" she snapped. "I can't lose it!"

And much to her surprise, the gnome leaped up and proceeded to do just that. The next thing she knew, the small, leatherbound book fell in her lap. She looked down at it in surprise, then picked it up, feeling immediately calmer with it under her hands again. She opened it and flipped through the pages, seeing the usual ever changing diagrams, and let out a sigh of relief. It was her book, and it was back with her again.

Then she looked up at the gnome. He was twisting his fingers nervously and biting his lip.

"Oh, look what I've done," he whispered. "Don't tell them."

"Tell them what?" she replaced the book in its proper pouch. 

"That I stole it from elder Thanagel," he said, his voice even lower now. "I saw him pick it up. It fell when you were getting on the ship. I didn't think anyone noticed, but Thanagel did and he took it. I took it back from him. I stole it back from him," the gnome looked horrified that he would do such a thing, and Sara couldn't understand why. Everyone stole at least once in their life. "Please don't tell,"

"I won't," she assured the gnome. "It'll be our secret, what do you say to that?"

"I like that," the gnome replied with the ghost of a smile.

"You must have told me your name, but I've forgotten it," Sara said.

"Mullugutherum," the gnome replied. "That's my name. But I'll answer to 'thief' if you want. That's what Thanagel would want." He dropped his eyes again.

"Stop that,"

"Stop what?"

"Look at me when you talk to me. Is that so difficult?" 

"Sorry," Mullugutherum stammered. "I didn't think…you…you are like an elder on the surface, are you? It's part of my position. I'm not allowed to make eye contact with superiors."

Sara sighed. She didn't understand any of this. "Listen," she said. "I don't know anything about this bism place of yours, or about your people. We do things differently in the overworld, so if you'd kindly explain…"

"You're asking my advice?" Mullugutherum looked astonished.

"Yes, since you're the only one who seems like you would actually give it to me," Sara replied dryly, glaring at the elder, who was still sleeping. "All he does is bark orders around, and tried to send me back into that cave. I'm not going back, and I'm not going to let him order me around. The only person who I'd follow the orders of I haven't seen in years."

"Another elder?"

"No, a healer." Sara took out her own healing powder and ran a finger through it idly. "But she's been gone for a long time now, and your elder is nothing like her. Therefore I won't take orders from him or from anyone. And he doesn't look like he will talk to me, while you do, so by all means. Talk to me, Mullugutherum."

The gnome looked around frantically, glancing at the sleeping elder several times, as if any second he was going to wake up and do something horrible to the little gnome. "You really want me to?"

"Yes,"

Mullugutherum knew he shouldn't do it. It was just so nice hearing someone call his name instead of just shouting 'thief!' at him all the time.

"What do you want to know?" he finally asked.

Sara glanced around. "Where are we?"

"The Sunless Sea," Mullugutherum replied.

"That doesn't help," she answered. "I'm from the surface. I don't know any of this. Where are they taking me?" she glanced over at the elders and guards, noticing that the guards were sleeping just as deep as the elder, and raising an eyebrow at that. It seemed that, whoever they were, they had great faith in their abilities and safety and in Sara's honor. She was being guarded by one thief who she could easily overtake. And they slept on, not thinking how easily she could get through them and kill their other elder as well. 

"Bism," said Mullugutherum.

"What is that?"

Mullugutherum hesitated. "It's the place I come from. And them too. It's far from here though…it's…it's deep underground. It's home," he finished, not sure how to explain Bism to someone who had never been there before. "It's warm and the light is true. It's bright all the time, it's open and you can walk outside and feel the fire on your face," Mullugutherum looked distant. "The salamanders sometimes talk to you, if you stand outside near the river long enough and listen to what they have to say. They're very eloquent and…well, a lot of times they talk about things we don't understand. But they have nice voices and we always listen. Sometimes they are terribly witty and can make you laugh. You can sit on the bank and drink diamond juice and listen to them, and we all gather together on some nights and pluck the sapphires from the trees in preparation for a celebration."

"Fascinating," Sara whispered. 

"This is only the shallow lands," Mullugutherum looked around, the dreamy look disappearing from his face as his eyes moved around the dim cavern and the quiet, soft water lapping on the shore. "Bism is far below us. This here is the way to get there. We have the cavern to protect us from overworlders. But then sometimes we have to go up there to the cavern…checking things…and this is the way to get back. Sail the sunless sea and then go down the path on the other side…see that? It's the path, and then…then Thanagel will take us into Bism. I haven't been to Bism in so long. I want to go home,"

"So do I," Sara agreed.

"Don't you live on the surface?" asked Mullugutherum.

"I suppose. I come from another world, but I've never found a way to return there. That's my home."

"I'm sorry you can't go back."

"So am I. Thank you for answering my questions." It wasn't much, but since she was going to that Bism place…well, she'd figure out what she would do once she got there. There wasn't a whole lot she could do now. "Why are they so against you stealing…whatever it was that you stole? People steal on the surface all the time."

Mullugutherum sat down and looked over at Thanagel. "It's not allowed," he said simply. "In Bism, stealing is the worst crime that there is. It's punishable by permanent exile." he shrugged. "No one murders anyone in Bism," he continued. "It just doesn't happen. Ever. Maybe once or twice but it never happened again and no one ever talks about it. No one knows what to do with something that terrible."

She chuckled. "I am not surprised," she said. "I have been considered by many to be an evil witch. Who knows. Perhaps I am and just don't know it yet." She folded her hands together and rested her chin on them. "Perhaps I am an evil enchantress and one day will wake up and realize it." A strange, distant smile crossed her face. "Then I shall have no boundaries…"

"That's why stealing is the worst," replied Mullugutherum uncomfortably. "Because no one murders. And stealing is horrible because stealing implies lies…and Bism isn't a land of lies. It's a land of joy and truth and wonder. You will see when you get there. I don't know why they're taking you there, since…since you think stealing and murder is a fine thing to do…" he shuddered. "Worse than me."

"Yes, I am," she agreed. "Your elder was the second person that I murdered."

"Why are you so calm about it?"

"I don't know."

Both looked at each other, and it seemed that they were equally afraid. 

"But you'll see Bism at least," Mullugutherum finished. "It's my home."

"That's good then," Sara agreed. Then realizing that any minute the elder might wake up, she took the time to heal her ankle. Mullugutherum watched with fascination at the process.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"Just some healing," she replied when she had finished. "So I can actually walk now. "I used to be a healer."

Mullugutherum couldn't conceive of the murdering overworlder as ever doing something as noble as healing, but kept his mouth shut. She was being nice to him, after all, and that was so rare that he wanted to take advantage of it. So he just nodded. Then she sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes again. 

"Are you going to sleep?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Since your elders aren't going to wake up now, and I want to be rested when we go. And they're not going to leave until I'm rested."

"Why do you insist on doing that?

"Do what?"

"Talk back to the elder," Mullugutherum said nervously. "Try to make them do what you want."

She laughed. "Because they will do what I want." She answered. "They won't take me back to the surface and insist on bringing me down to your Bism. If they are going to do that, well, they'll do it on my own time. And eventually they will take me back. I don't know what I'll do to make them do such, but they will." 

"Oh." He said nothing else, so she decided to go back to sleep.

The elders didn't wake for the next few hours. When Thanagel arose, the lady was still sleeping. Thanagel stormed over to her and raised the staff, looking for a moment like he was going to strike her out of frustration. Then he thought better of himself and put it down. "Thief," he ordered. "Wake the overworlder. We're getting off the ship now."

"She doesn't want to wake up," Mullugutherum said quickly. "She told me."

Thanagel rounded on Mullugutherum so sharply that Mullugutherum almost fell over. "You talked to the overworlder without my permission?" Thanagel roared. "How dare you? There will be equal punishments for you, thief, once we return."

"I didn't mean to!" Mullugutherum stammered. "She was just talking to me. She called me by my name!"

"And…there will be even further consequences for that. Get up, overworlder."

Sara's eyes opened. She yawned widely, not making any attempt to hide it out of politeness. "What is it?"

"Get up. We're leaving now. And why did you call the thief by his name? Why did you talk to him at all?"

"He was the only one kind enough to talk to me likewise." She replied. "And where I am from, we call people by their names no matter what. And I'm not leaving yet. Give me a minute to get ready and then we can leave."

"No, we're leaving now!" Thanagel shouted, but the lady didn't move. She only gathered her things, combing through her long hair and checking that everything she had was still there. She took the book out and opened it, flipping through it and nodding. 

"By the way," she said, holding up the book. "I don't appreciate you taking my book without asking." She waved it at Thanagel as she stood up and shook the wrinkles out of her skirt. "I hear it fell out of my pocket when we were getting on the ship and you felt the need to take it. I don't much appreciate that." She put it back in the pocket and smiled brightly. "So shall we go?"

Thanagel was speechless. Then he turned his fury back on Mullugutherum. "You took the book back and gave it to her? Thief, you have my word, you will suffer gravely for all this," he hissed.

"It's not his fault," the lady replied mildly. "I asked him to do it. If he didn't…" she raised an eyebrow. "I could have used my terrible overworld powers to bend him to my command." 

Thanagel didn't know if she was joking or not. With overworlders, one could never be sure. Overworlders always lied. That was a fact of life that all the citizens of Bism knew. It was one of the many reasons why they chose to live so far underground with such deep defenses. No overworld lies could breach then.

"Very well," Thanagel replied gruffly. "Let's go."

"By all means." 

Thanagel scowled, but led the way, and Mullugutherum and the lady followed him out.

"This is the way to Bism," Mullugutherum whispered to the lady as they walked. It was a long passage up from where they docked. The ceiling was low and everything was filled with a dull gray light except for the whiter, cleaner light that came from the lanterns and from the elder's staff. 

"There's nothing here. It's just a passage."

"Yes," Mullugutherum agreed. 

Finally they reached a dead end. "Stand back," Thanagel ordered. The lady made to lean forward, but this time even Mullugutherum pulled her back.

"Thanagel is going to open the passage," he said. "Don't look."

Thanagel took the necklace he was wearing off, and held it out above the ground. He dropped it in the center, and then took Thark's, shaking it three times in a circle. Then he picked them both up, put them back around his neck, and tapped the ground five times with the butt of his spear.

A small hole opened in the center. A bright yellow and orange glow came from that hole.

"Who goes there?" a voice hissed. It sounded like the voice of heat and flame.

"Elder Thanagel, his guards, the thief Mullugutherum, and an overworlder," Thanagel replied.

"Thief? Overworlder? What for?"

"I will explain once we get down. Trust me."

"Where is Elder Thark?"

"Elder Thark is dead." Thanagel replied sadly.

There was a moment of silence. "Come home," the voice hissed. 

The hole widened until a chasm opened up on the floor. With it came a brightness ten times more vivid than anything else on the surface. It glimmered and sparkled with not only reds and oranges, but bright yellow, brighter than the sun, and strange white motes that danced in the light. A sharp smell struck Sara's nose and she sneezed loudly several times. If light could ever be put to a scent, it would be whatever was drifting out of the chasm right now. A deep breath of it made one agitated and restless and at the same time excited, and without knowing why, Sara found herself impatient to get down to wherever that chasm was leading. 

"Let us go," Thanagel said. "Thief, you first. I will take the overworlder. Guards, go with the thief."

Then, much to Sara's shock, Mullugutherum leaped into the chasm and the guards followed. Sara wanted to say something, but before she had a chance to, Thanagel grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

Sara wanted to scream, and she was sure she did. Her stomach dropped as she fell, her arm held by the elder and the cavern walls whooshing past. The light was so bright that it dazzled her eyes, making them water, and then as they fell further the light forced her eyes shut. The heat grew in intensity and each breath was almost agony, the hot air searing her lungs until she was sure she'd suffocate.

They landed softly. She couldn't tell either, because she was too busy covering her eyes to stop the brightness from damaging them completely, and trying to draw a breath over the thick heat. She coughed, the scent getting to her just as much as the heat and the air.

She felt something thrust into her hands. Her fingers closed convulsively around it, and then…then the symptoms stopped. Her breathing cleared and became easy, and her eyes opened. She looked down and saw that Thanagel had given her his spear. She ran her fingers over the smooth, shining metal. It gave her a shock when she touched the silver, and she jerked her hand away. There was magic in this, and she wanted to know what it was.

"Stand up, overworlder. You'll be fine now." Thanagel took the staff away just as quickly and held it close to his body. "Get up, I said."

Sara stood.

"Yarrin's claws," she breathed.

"Yes, this is Bism. This is the true home." 

Sara was on a flat plain of some sort. It was hard and orange and shimmered when she walked on it. So this was Bism. It was brilliant, with more shining colors than humanly possible. The motes danced even more here, and instead of being only white they were all colors of the rainbow. The heat shone in the air too, and occasionally when the heat grew too thick, it coalesced and something fell out of the air and into the ground where a shoot began to grow. There were trees and plants all around, but they looked nothing like the plants at home. They were bright, perfect blue or red or green and fruits dangled off the end. The colors were so intense and a thousand times more real than back on the surface. And the light was too, showing the outlines of the trees in details so precise that one could even see the legs on the creatures climbing up and down the stalks. 

A road ran down the way. It was pale silver, studded with what she assumed were diamonds. All around them were gnomes of different shapes and sizes. Some had long trunks, some were short, tall, wrinkly, with three noses or five ears or extremely skinny. It was more colorful than anywhere else in the world and all the gnomes seemed not to care that they all looked so different. 

A river ran through the center of it all and it glowed brighter than anything else here. Despite Thanagel's magic, Sara couldn't look at the river. 

"_Oh, fancy that," _Sara heard a voice come hissing out of the river. _"It's one of those overworlders. I can say we've never had an overworlder here, have we?"_

"_Certainly not," _agreed another voice. _"Is this one from Narnia? I enjoy Narnia, it is such a wonderful land. Though not much in terms of literature I'm afraid."_

"_How I agree! I much prefer the world where the Sons of Adam come from. Have you ever read what they have there? It is absolutely brilliant. I would say it rivals Azrath in terms of literary accomplishments."_

"_I'd suffer to disagree with you, Mandra. I think the post-dark ages time of Azrath has to be the most spectacular in terms of literature. Haven't you read 'Seven Songs for the Sun'? That is far better than 'A Tale of Two Cities.' Less wordy. Charles Dickens is excellent, but paid by the word? It makes for a great deal that could be cut out and a lot of the essence of the novel lost in too many words. I think Amarea Nascor handles 'Seven Songs' in a far more logical manner,"_

"_Truly? But despite the payment, it is fascinating to see how Charles Dickens portrays the French revolution without specifically referencing it. Amarea Nascor makes such blatant references to the early Dresthel period that I think could easily have been changed…"_

"Overworlder,"

"What?" Sara tore her eyes away from the river and the strange conversation taking place within it. "What's that?"

"It's only the salamanders. I don't know what they're talking about. They enjoy literature,"

"I can see that." She leaned forward. "Can I talk to them?"

"No! We have to go now! Where's that thief? And…guards, where are my guards?"

The guards appeared, standing taller and sturdier, rejuvenated by the light of their homeland. Even Mullugutherum looked better. He wasn't bowing and scraping as much. Now he was standing upright, and while he still shied away from the guards and Thanagel, she caught a look to him that she hadn't seen before…something that wasn't quite confidence, but something that made him sure of himself nonetheless. So this was what it was like for people with a true home. It could even transform the cowering thief she saw before into someone who seemed to know what he wanted.

"Guards. Good. Thief?"

"Yes, elder?"

"Making sure you are there. Stay with the overworlder so that she doesn't run off. And you will all come with me." Thanagel nodded to everyone and then started off, now with his head held high and the staff tight and proud in his hand, his long cloak trailing behind him across the shiny floor.

"Amazing,"

"What is?" asked Mullugutherum.

"This. I didn't know such a place existed. It's beautiful." She looked around in wonder. "It's so bright. I couldn't open my eyes before. Was that the elder's spear that did that?" she made her voice low when she asked him that.

"Yes," Mullugutherum nodded. "The magic of Bism is the strongest there is." He mumbled. "Always was." He looked away and stayed closer to the guards now. Sara continued to follow, and she was sure she looked absolutely absurd, walking around and gawking at everything. But…Yarrin's claws. An entire world, a beautiful one, existed miles below the surface…and no one ever knew of it. The people of Bism did guard themselves closely.

They took a different path, and that path led up a steep hill that was hard to climb. Mullugutherum kept stopping and gasping for breath and was in return prodded sharply with the spears. It was a little easier for Sara, living for so long in rocky terrain, but only a little. 

"Now," Thanagel stopped at an oddly shaped building, round and rectangular and squat. It had the same iridescent covering that every building down here had, and was the only building situated on the top of this hill. Thanagel prodded the front of it several times and a door opened and swung outward. "There," Thanagel pointed.

"What?"

"Go in, overworlder. That's where you'll stay until we decide what to do with you."

"I stayed there for two weeks," whispered Mullugutherum. 

"Silence, thief!" barked Thanagel. "Just go in."

"Do what he says," Mullugutherum advised. Having nothing else to do, Sara entered the strange dwelling. The ceiling was flat, and it was no less beautiful inside than it was on the out. The only thing she could say that it was plain, but of course plain in the land of Bism means only slightly less glittery than everything else. There was a bed…she recognized that…a table, and two other rooms, presumably a washroom and maybe a kitchen. She didn't even want to think what sort of food they ate here. As soon as she entered, Thanagel withdrew and slammed the door on both of them. 

Immediately Sara ran towards the door, her fingers flying to the outline. "How does it open?" she demanded. "Why did he lock us in here? Why are you here?" she glared at Mullugutherum, as if it was his fault.

"It's the prison, lady," Mullugutherum replied, sitting down on the floor and resting his head in his hands. "It's where they keep the prisoners awaiting trial. You're on trial for murder and I'm on trial for returning back to Bism before my sentence was up,"

She searched and felt the crack of the door beneath her fingernails but it didn't give way. "So we're trapped here?"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"Well, we are. It's made to keep prisoners and that's us. So we can't escape." Mullugutherum gave a small shrug. That's the way it was and he saw nothing wrong with it. Such was the way with prisoners.

"I'm going to get out,"

"Why?"

"Because I can't…can't…I refuse to be trapped anywhere I can't escape from!" with a cry for frustration, she slammed both her fists on the door. Nothing happened, so she turned around and slid down the door on her back with a sigh. "I'm tired of being trapped. I can't take this anymore. I wish…"

"I wish we could get out too," Mullugutherum said. "It was terribly boring guarding that cave. It wasn't a fair punishment."

"No. I guess not." Another frustrated sigh. "I wouldn't know. They punish people differently in my world."

"How do they?" Mullugutherum was genuinely interested. Trial and punishment was one thing he knew very well.

"There's a trial, but the punishment usually equates with the crime. An eye for an eye, that's how it's done. You steal something of value, you have something that's yours of value taken away. It's all very just back at home. They should do that here. I don't know how they do it in Narnia. I never thought to ask."

"You're not from Narnia,"

"No."

Mullugutherum pressed his face to the window. "They're almost done harvesting," he said suddenly, a giddiness in his voice present that she hadn't heard before. "We'll have everything fresh tonight." 

Sara said nothing, but walked away from the door and went to the bed. She sat on it and drew her knees in close. "This is all very strange to me," she said. "Just when I think I've been across the world and back, I find this. If I were to ever go home…" she shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "They'd want to hear absolutely everything, bless them. If…" there was a long pause. "He'd love to hear it too," she mumbled, not noticing that Mullugutherum was listening. "Or love to see it. Yes…yes, that. He always used to talk about wanting to see things that his father never saw."

"Who?"

She looked up, just noticing Mullugutherum. "Just someone I knew," she replied. "It's none of your business. Tell me, how does one eat down here?"

"They'll feed us. I hope," Mullugutherum said as an afterthought. They usually fed the prisoners."

"Ah." Then she looked away and didn't talk to him anymore, and Mullugutherum…well he was just glad to be home. There was nothing grander than the hot bright scents of Bism, than the bright colors and sparkles and the feel of the fire against one's face, and the safety of being so far underground where no harm could ever reach. Up on the surface…he shuddered at the memory…it was so cold, distant, and unfeeling. On the surface, anything terrible could happen. Bism was blessedly safe. He hated his time guarding, even though he knew the punishment was right for his terrible crime. Now that he was safe at home, he never wanted to go back. The thought of being forced back once they decided his punishment again…

A shudder ran through him. He glanced over at the overworlder who was completely ignoring him. Is that what she felt, he wondered? Maybe his fear of the overworld was the same as hers of this place. She was being taken far from her element and labeled as a criminal, and she didn't even know how this world worked.

It was too much for Mullugutherum to think about. He wasn't the type of person who liked to think. 

Well, he was home, and that was the most important thing. Mullugutherum would worry about anything else later and try not to think so much right now.

* * *

"Wake up, overworlder."

"My name is Sara, in case you were wondering." She snapped, turning towards the visitor. The door had opened…she couldn't see how…and a guard entered. These guards were different than the elder's. They were dressed in heavier material and carried spears that glimmered oddly in the overly bright light. "And I am awake. What do you want?"

"Thief! You too."

Mullugutherum wandered in from the other room. Sara had decided earlier to look around the building a little more, and discovered that there were three other bedrooms and one washroom, all very plain. Mullugutherum had said it was one of the smaller holding cells. The larger ones were reserved for those condemned for a longer period of time. Sara and Mullugutherum were going on trial and to be done with fairly quickly. Their crimes were worse, and everyone in Bism liked to get the quick trials over with.

Sara had checked the entire enclave over three times to see if she could find a way out. She found a window, but it had some sort of shield that prevented her from escaping out that way. This was truly a prison. After all those murderers and the claims of the Narnians, she was finally put on a trial, and in a place that Narnia had no idea existed. 

The guard entered and was carrying a tray with an assortment of objects on it. "Food for the prisoners," he said shortly, setting the tray down on the table next to Sara's bed. "The date of the trial has yet to be determined." And then he too left. Sara watched him closely, trying to see how he managed it, but couldn't figure it out.

Mullugutherum skittered over to the table and immediately grabbed the food they had dropped off. He was holding an odd looking yellow thing in one hand, which he was eating vigorously, and a cup in the other. He kept glancing furtively at Sara as he ate, suspicious that she was going to steal his food at any minute.

"Food?" he said finally, when he had finished eating. There wasn't very much left over, and he looked quite satisfied that he had denied the overworlder some of his food.

"I suppose," Sara said, trying to look completely composed as she went over to the table. Truth be told, she was starving, having eaten nothing since breakfast at Harfang…and that was…gods, she didn't know how long ago. She didn't know how much time had passed since she came down here…it would have easily been two days and she'd never have noticed. The giants were probably frantic with worry, as none of them who had gone down that passage had returned. Well, Yarag would never come back, and Talfa was dead. And unless she was terribly lucky, not to mention tricky and actually managing to come up with a plan that would work, she would be trapped here, too. Who knew what awaited her at this mysterious Bism trial? And with the shock that Mullugutherum had expressed upon her murder of Thark, not to mention the shock that she had seen all too clearly on the other faces of the earthmen, it didn't seem likely that she'd escape at all.

She was starving, and there was hardly any food left. She glared at Mullugutherum, who barely noticed her now. He had retreated to the other side of the room and was looking at the ceiling. 

"What is this?" she held out the other cup, which was full of what looked like blue juice, of a brilliant deep blue that cast a sparkling shadow on the ceiling. She sniffed it cautiously and then quickly brought the cup away, the pungent fruity odor overwhelming her senses.

"It's just juice," Mullugutherum replied, looking back towards her.

She didn't know what kind of juice or if it would kill her upon drinking it, but she was so thirsty she didn't care. She drank all the juice in the cup down in one swallow.

A second later, Sara sat down on the bed, coughing violently, pressing a bit of the cloth from the bed to stifle the sound. The flavor was so strong, it was fruity, but of a different kind of fruit than what existed everywhere else in the world. It was as if the very essence of fruit was distilled into that drink, and mixed with something else…something that tasted earthy and familiar and foreign, and sharp…sharp like the fire and air all around them.

Much to her surprise, Mullugutherum was at her side, looking concerned.

When her coughing fit had passed for the most part, leaving her only breathless and with tears in her eyes from the fit, she threw the cup down at Mullugutherum's feet. "What is this?" she demanded.

"Juice," he replied, bewildered. "Why? What's wrong? Are you going to die from the juice? It's only juice. They haven't put anything into it." He picked up the cup and looked at it, a worried frown on his face. "I'm not dead yet. They wouldn't poison us."

"Why not?"

"I told you. They don't murder."

Mullugutherum took the juice cup and replaced it on the tray, still eyeing her cautiously.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She shrugged. She still didn't know what that juice was, but she didn't feel as hungry anymore. If she cared, she would maybe make a study of that juice. It made her wonder what other kind of food they had in this strange land. If she ever got out of here, she could write a book on this that would take all of Narnia by storm.

"So what are they going to do to us?" Sara asked, deciding not to worry anymore about the food and instead try to get to the bottom of this. Maybe if she understood more, she could find a way out of here. This world was beautiful, but she didn't know it.

"I don't know," admitted Mullugutherum. "I stole something important and as a punishment I was exiled to guard the cavern of the sleepers. What I did was the worst and deserved the worst punishment. Now I returned without permission…and…" he looked really scared for a moment, but then that look vanished and was replaced by his generally blank and unassuming look. "They'll exile me forever, I think. I don't know what they're going to do to you."

She laughed dryly. "I don't want to know what they'll do to me, but I'm sure it won't be all that nice, no matter what you say to them. But it doesn't matter to me either way. I suppose good luck to you in your eternal exile, if there was something I could do, I would do it."

"Can't you?" for a moment Mullugutherum looked hopeful. "On the ship you made Elder Thanagel stop for you. No one ever does that."

"I do that because I have no interest in being bossed around by anyone anymore. It doesn't matter to me if the elder wants me to do something. I don't know your customs, so I will do things my own way."

"If you can do that, can't you do more?"

She turned away from Mullugutherum. "I thought I could," she said absently. "But it didn't work out that way."

"You have magic though,"

"What does that matter?"

"People with magic make things happen."

"And how much do you know about this? You're only a thief," she snapped in response.

"Yes, yes, of course I am," and Mullugutherum shrank back from her and vanished into the back room. "Good night, overworlder."

"My name is Sara."

No response, only a closed door.

Well, that was that. He thought she could actually do something! What nonsense was that, people with magic made things happen. Not good things, only death, only despair, what did it matter. She had no interest anymore in making anything happen, not after wasting six years…

The heat had grown oppressive in here, and while Mullugutherum didn't notice, being from this world, Sara did, and had no way of opening a door. She went back to the shielded window, tapping it in various places to see if she could figure out how it worked. 

Could she blast the window open? And add vandalism to her growing list of accusations. 

Well, it seemed the only option. So she tossed her power and said the spell, and a large hole…much larger than the window…was blasted through the wall. That was a bit too much, but it wasn't her house so she really didn't care.

Outside was brighter than in here, almost blinding.

A smile crossed her face. They thought they could hold her with their strange Bism concepts. None could hold a Tahalset enchantress against her will.

Well, she certainly couldn't find her way back standing in this room. She glanced back for a moment at Mullugutherum's closed door and felt briefly sorry for the trapped earthman. It was really an unfair punishment, eternal exile simply for having stolen something. But if that was the culture's way, then there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe she would attempt someday, if she cared to, do something about that. After all, that Mullugutherum fellow was the only one who had spoken to her and tried to help her in this world.

Sara walked through the hole and onto the slightly squashy and shiny ground. The building looked like a prison from the outside, despite the overly glamorous and sparkly appearance that this world gave off on everything.

Now how to get out? No idea. She didn't know Bism.

Well, figure best follow out the way she came. She found the path that led up the hill and took it down, holding up her long dress as she trotted down the hill, trying not to fall. It was a long way down, and why the prison was on the top of a hill, she didn't know.

She finally reached the bottom, and stopped to catch her breath. There were several roads leading away from this hill. Several of them led straight ahead, and one went upwards…that was the one she remembered taking here…and another that led down.

She paused, staring at each of the paths, the brilliance making them all blend together. If she took the same one they used to come here, odds are she could run into that elder person. But…finally, on a whim, she took the lower path to see where it might lead.

The light was even brighter ahead, and she didn't know what that was. Curious, she walked towards it. Maybe it was a path or a main road. In Tahalset, all roads were brightly lit, especially the main ones. This one on the bottom seemed exceptionally important. It was wider and there were signs along the way, though she couldn't read the language it was written in. Well, if it was important, maybe it could be a help. She followed the large road down towards the brighter light.

It was so bright that she couldn't even get all the way to it. She stopped, shielding her eyes, squinting against the light in an attempt to see if there actually was a road beneath it.

"_Well, you're certainly not one of the other Earthmen now, are you? Stop staring at our road…Tahalset! Oh Madros, this one's from Tahalset!"_

Hearing a voice, a thin hissing fiery voice, say the name of her home country startled her even more than anything else in Bism had. She staggered back from the light, her heart pounding. "Tahalset?" she said, not aware that she was practically shouting. "You know Tahalset?"

"_Madros does," _the voice replied. _"Madros makes an effort to study your literature. We've never met anyone from there, not personally at least. Only from afar, like that scholar from Taenarasa, the one who wrote…oh, where is Madros? Find him, he remembers the scholar, and the title. It was that book about the dragons. Was it dragons?"_

"_No," _said a gruffer voice. _"Wasn't dragons, they don't have dragons in that country. It was Kirnen Mahatros's bit on the southern lizards and pythons…and it wasn't literature, I can't stand that book. If you want true Tahalset literature, you ought to read the third excerpt from the Ten Voyages of Tiendra."_

"Tiendra," Sara whispered, hearing the word come from someone else making it seem all the more real. "You know of Tiendra?"

"_Everyone does. I've read it three times. Marvelous work. Unfortunately, and take no offense at this, miss, but it's really the only remarkable bit of literature to come out of you world. Fascinating world, really, but sorely lacking in the literary department. My apologies." _

"You know of my world!" she ran forward and then had to stop as the heat intensified and threatened to burn her face. "Who are you? Where are you? Please, speak to me!"

A face…no, two…three…faces appeared out of the fire. They were vaguely reptilian, a shining gold color, scales accentuated with hints of red, their eyes orange and slitted, and a peculiar intelligence and awareness shining out of them. The fire licked around the heads and bodies of these lizards…salamanders! Sara recognized salamanders, she had read about them and heard of them, and even…was it Mullugutherum who mentioned them? They lived here in the river of fire.

So this wasn't a road. It was a river.

"_Well, I am Madros," _offered the salamander in the center. _"I've studied your world's literature for a bit, but didn't find it as remarkable as I did that of Azrath, or that of Ciylen. Ciylen is like yours in a way, I must say…heavily dependent on mythology." _Madros finished thoughtfully. _"I didn't know anyone could come to Narnia from there."_

"_It is rumored," _interrupted a second salamander. _"That travel between the worlds is becoming much easier of late. Though I believe that is mainly between the other worlds. You know Narnia hasn't been much on that."_

"_I know." _Agreed Madros.

"Listen," she got as close to the fire as she could, the flames turning her face red and sore the closer she got. "Listen, I'm…I'm not supposed to be here, and…"

"_No, you're rather not," _a different salamander said. _"People from the surface have never been allowed into Bism. I don't believe they changed the rules. Bism never changes. Terrible shame, too, I'd have loved to speak with that author who wrote the Man trilogy, you know, since everyone knows that the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve exist, yet he questioned that…brilliantly controversial, especially during the time it was written."_

"_Mmm, yes, right in the middle of the Hundred Years' Winter. I'm surprised it was written at all, and that he managed to live for another ten years before being convicted of treason."_

"Please…I was brought into Narnia years ago by accident, and I have been trying to find my way home ever since. There…there was an accident, a lot of accidents actually, and I lost all communication with my world. I've done a lot since then but I haven't found a way to speak with them or a way to get home…you…you know of my world, can you help me?" It was desperate, and she was grasping at straws. Her breath came quicker and she wondered if maybe…maybe it would work? But she didn't dare hope. Yet she was.

"_Really?" _queried the first salamander. _"That is unfortunate. We don't communicate much with upper Narnia…I'm afraid they aren't as interested in real literature as we would wish." _There were sighs all around as the other salamanders seemed to regret this fact. _"We love literature, but Narnia is sadly lacking."_

"_What was the most recent bit we've read?"_

"_Don't you remember? 'A Modest Proposal'. From the world of the humans. Wasn't that just such an excellent bit of satire?"_

"_Yes! That one was marvelous. The very idea…let us eat the Irish children! Shame that the people of England during that time didn't seem to appreciate good satire as much as we do." _More sighs. 

"_Oh, yes, I know, but we have to pay attention to this one," _The salamander who spoke waved its claw in Sara's general direction. _"We may be able to help you."_

"_Help!" interrupted Madros, the supposed master of Tahalset literature. "Why? Really, Emandrel, we can't go around helping every otherworlder that finds their way down here."_

"_Madros?"_

"_What?"_

"_How many otherworlders have found their way down here?"_

There was a moment of silence.

"_None. Very well, proceed, Emandrel. You take this one. I'm going back home, Telcathra highly recommends that piece from Cara'alen."_

"_That one is good," _agreed a different one. Madros left, and most of them left with him, except for Emandrel.

"_Take no offense at them," _said Emandrel. _"Madros isn't very sociable, even though he's the wisest in terms of your people's writings. I will help you,"_

"You will!" Sara held out her hands into the fire as if to touch Emandrel. The flames licked her hands and she jerked them back. "You can help me?"

"_I suppose," _Emandrel sounded slightly doubtful. _"We were all tired of reading Narnia's writings, and they never came up with anything that interested us. The people of Bism like to listen to us but don't read as much as we wanted. It was…oh I forget whose idea it was initially, but we did manage to look into other worlds and read their literature instead. It's been quite fascinating, really."_

Sara sat down in front of the fire, her face inches from Emandrel's, and she didn't notice the heat anymore. Her eyes were wide and she had forgotten entirely about Bism and the trial and everything. Oh, gods, here was her chance! 

"Can…can you show me?" she whispered.

"_Oh, that I can do," _Emandrel said confidently. _"I've never looked much into Tahalset but I can right now if you want. Only their library, though. That's all we ever bother looking into in all other worlds."_

"Please," was all Sara could manage to say.

"_Well, it's no problem,"_

Emandrel's tail whipped out of the way and he looked in front of him, blinking his sharp orange eyes a few times. He pressed his claws in the fire and then lashed his tail back and forth a few times. There was a shimmer to the air, very brief, and then with a start, the main library of Mayharran came into view. It was the magistrate's private library, full of all manners of books and scrolls and several large tapestries hanging in the back. But it was Mayharran, anyone could tell that, and in the back window the huge palm trees hung down in front, making the sun shine in varied patterns on the ground.

"_This is it, yes? This is your world? Oh, there is the book that Madros is always talking about," _added Emandrel thoughtfully.

She couldn't talk. She could barely move. Tentatively she reached a hand forward, and thought it didn't go through the portal, she felt like it would…like an inch further and she would be in the library altogether. Her heard pounded so hard she felt dizzy and lightheaded. It was Mayharran. It was her own world, and it was real…so vividly real! This world wasn't the only one. Hers still existed.

"Hello?" she finally called, her voice shaky and vague. 

"Rosaly!" the voice that answered hers was harsh and sharp, and a woman came into view. She was thin, with graying red hair pulled back tight away from her face. There were worry lines on her forehead and her mouth turned down in a perpetual frown. "Rosaly, how dare you break into my main library? That's the third time this week, and I won't stand for it anymore! You know my library is off limits!"

Sara reached for her necklace and curled her fingers around it, pulling at it nervously, for a moment denied of speech entirely. Her throat was closing and she felt so close to tears, but not quite enough to actually cry. That was the magistrate, certainly. It wasn't the same magistrate she had met before…obviously not, since it had been…how long…ninety six years since the magistrate she knew. But this magistrate, she spoke true, she had the same Mayharran accent, trilling her R's and clipping the end of her sentences short, speaking as if there was an 'ae' in almost every word. 

"Magistrate?" she managed to say.

"What do you want, Rosaly? I have half a mind to break this connection right now and…"

"No! Don't!" that broke Sara's silence instantly as the terror rose at the very thought that she would be cut off. "Please don't!"

The magistrate blinked at the obvious fear in Sara's voice. "What's wrong, Rosaly?"

"I'm…" Sara took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm herself. "I don't know who this Rosaly is you're speaking of. My name is Sarasael Inari," it felt so strange to say her full name after years of nothing but being called 'lady' and 'Sara' at some very rare occasions. 

"Another Inari!" the magistrate threw her hands up in mock despair. "Listen, I don't have time to talk to another Inari, why don't you just speak to one of my assistants…"

"Please, magistrate, hear me out!"

The magistrate gave an aggrieved sigh. "Fine then, but be quick. I don't have time to listen to all of you."

"_Well, aren't you terribly polite," _came Emandrel's voice, hissing next to her. Clearly the magistrate could hear it too, for she started and looked around wildly for Emandrel. _"This lady has been desperate to reach you and was giving us some story about being lost, not that I know all that much. The least you can do is listen."_

"What is that?" the magistrate started.

"A salamander," Sara said, finding her voice at last, Emandrel's words giving her at least the semblance of confidence. In the face of her world again, it seemed as every bit of poise she gained while being Lady of Harfang was forgotten entirely.

"Salamander…" the magistrate's eyes widened. "An Inari getting in contact with a salamander…I've never seen one! Where are you, so that you may speak with a creature like that so freely?"

"Bism," Sara said, folding her hands tight in her lap to stop them from shaking.

"_Go on," _urged Emandrel. _"I don't see what you're so worried about."_

"Bism," Sara repeated, clearing her throat. "I am in Bism, in the world of Narnia."

"Oh, they send Inaris to other worlds now? No wonder, there are so many of them." The magistrate scowled. "Listen, what is so important that you must contact me instead of going to the other world committee? I'm sure they'd be willing to help you, they're good about this sort of thing."

"No, no, I need to speak with you directly, magistrate."

"Well, tell me why! I'm a very busy woman. Funny accent you have, I might add. How long have you been over in that…that…Narnia?"

"Eight years, magistrate," Sara said respectively, the old habits returning to her as she heard the heavy Mayharran accent. She bowed her head and pressed her two hands together over her head in the gesture of respect. 

"Eight years! Then why haven't…"

"Please, magistrate, I haven't had contact with Mayharran in seven of those eight years, give me a moment to explain myself."

"Well, explain, then," the magistrate replied impatiently. 

"Eight years ago…" she had forgotten, she realized, that the time moved differently between the two worlds. "Narnian time is different than yours. It was eight years for me, but for you…it is…I believe ninety six years,"

"Ninety six!" the magistrate exclaimed. "What do you mean, ninety six?"

"Do you…oh, you probably wouldn't, it's been too long…Hylaea? Does that name mean anything to you? What about Mordian?"

"Hylaea…" the magistrate's voice trailed off. "You mean Grand Magistrate Hylaea Rian, Yarrin rest her soul for eternity," she finished reverently.

"Yes, yes, her!" Sara nodded vigorously. "Hylaea Rian. I went to school with her. We went through all of primary school and two years of secondary together. She was my best friend…she would know me…Sarasael Inari. She would remember my name. You know her?"

"I never met her," the magistrate pressed a hand to her heart. "I know of whom you speak, and there is not a person alive who doesn't. Were you to be in this world I'd whip you for such disrespect!"

The magistrate was so forward that Sara flinched. "I beg your pardon!"

"For not addressing her as Grand Magistrate Hylaea, but if it has truly been as long as you've said, I grant you momentary pardon."

"Grand Magistrate? When I knew her she was only Hylaea. We were best friends."

"Grand Magistrate Hylaea was one of the greatest contributors to all of Tahalset in the last one hundred years, Miss Inari. She made leaps and bounds in the other worlds project. She spent years of research and magical effort, she had a team together of researchers that took decades to work. She was the one that opened the way from Mayharran into the other worlds. We walk between the worlds now solely because of the Grand Magistrate, Miss Inari, so you would do best to show respect."

"Hylaea did all that?"

"Grand Magistrate Hylaea! And of course she did. She was a wise and wonderful person, and she was taken from us too soon. She died twenty five years ago," the magistrate continued sadly. "She would have lived much longer, but she gave so much effort into the project that her heart gave out from the stress. I am honored to have succeeded her, but in no way can live up to the wonderful things that she did."

"I'm so glad," Sara replied, smiling faintly. "Hylaea was always so smart and so dedicated. The last I heard from her she was going to intern with the magistrate and work on the other worlds project over the summer. You mean she actually did it?"

The magistrate's eyebrows came together and it served to make her pinched face look even more so. "Yes," she replied unsurely. "Of course she did, everyone knows that."

"I didn't. I'm sorry, but…here, the last thing I knew was when Hylaea was a fourth year going for that internship. My brother Mordian had gotten married, and…I don't know about my other brothers. The magistrate was working on the other worlds project, there was a committee together, but all they managed to do was bring a twig in from another world. The king and queen were Polien and Kythaeres, and someone had…had…just captured a southern python and was holding it for extensive study in the Mayharran Boys' School science department. Slaen wanted to break it out and use it to terrorize the neighborhood and was going to pay Hylaea a sizeable amount of money…sizable for fourth years, she told me…to get into the school and help him break the snake out…"

She stopped when she realized she was rambling, and looked away from the magistrate's sharp gaze, feeling like a second year all over again, a second year that had done something terribly wrong. She always wondered if Hylaea really had taken Slaen up on that offer.

When she looked back up, the magistrate had a look of almost fear on her face. "Yes," she said. "The Grand Magistrate wasn't at all very proud of the fact that at the end of her secondary school year, she helped a friend break a snake out…she never told us much about it…" The magistrate's voice dropped down to a whisper. "What did you say your name was?"

"I told you, Sarasael Inari."

"Sarasael…" the magistrate looked frantically from side to side and then stood up suddenly. "Sarasael. Inari. I know that name. The Grand Magistrate…give me a moment," the magistrate turned and ran down to a bookshelf, and Sara could see her looking through the books, then go into a desk and open and close numerous drawers, shuffling through them, throwing papers aside. She pulled something out and then ran back to the fire. Sara watched, entranced, almost hypnotized at the wonder of seeing her homeworld again. It looked so much the same, and hearing the magistrate's blessed Mayharran inflection was more beautiful than any music she could hear anywhere in this world. She remembered those days standing on the highest tower of Harfang and wondering if Tahalset had all been a dream, but no…it was as real and vivid as the lava that the salamanders lived in.

The magistrate held the paper up to the fire.

"Do you know this…this picture?"

The picture showed two young girls. One of them was skinny and wearing glasses, and had wispy brown hair pulled away from her face. She was holding up a spoon of ice cream and grinning broadly, giving a thumbs up at the ice cream. The other girl was just as thin, with blonde curly hair and holding an ice cream cone, giving the same thumbs up and goofy grin.

Sara reached out and actually did burn her hand. She jerked it away and waved it about in the air to cool it off, not even thinking or feeling about the burn, and in the back of her mind realizing that she'd have to fix that later. 

"I do," 

"Really?" the magistrate turned the picture over. "What does it mean to you, then?"

Sara let her burned hand fall into her lap. "First year," she whispered. "The summer before first year. That's me and my friend Hylaea, and Marian…from third precinct…she took that picture because we looked ridiculous, and…well, Marian liked taking pictures that made us look ridiculous. Don't ask about the ice cream."

"That's what she said," the magistrate replied wonderingly. She looked down at the back of the photo. " 'This is the only picture I could find,'" she read. " 'This is myself and Sarasael Inari from a few years ago, she's the one on the left. Please don't ask about the ice cream.' That's what it says. That's what Grand Magistrate Hylaea wrote."

"Why'd she write that?"

The magistrate set the picture down. "The Grand Magistrate said she lost a friend to an unfortunate accident years before. She had this picture for years, and she told us that…that if her friend was still alive, she would search through all the worlds for her. When she died, she left me this picture and told me to try. I didn't…think anything of it. Dead friends in other worlds, you see, there's not much to think about. The Grand Magistrate did many wonderful things, but we always found her preoccupation with the missing second year girl a bit…odd. But we forgave her." The magistrate looked back at the picture, shaking her head in wonder. "You really are from…from almost a hundred years ago. How old are you?"

"Twenty…twenty three,"

"There was a theory about that," the magistrate said faintly. "Of how the time moves differently in the different worlds. This confirms it, then…well…I'm sorry, I don't quite know what to say. To be honest, none of us believed in the Grand Magistrate's mysterious lost secondary school friend. I find…I find myself highly surprised that you exist at all, let alone that you've…managed to reach and contact me."

"It hasn't been easy," Sara said quickly. "I couldn't do it ever since I lost my communication powder in a flood years ago. The plants here are different, and some of the ones used to make that don't exist in this world. I was unable to salvage it. I was lucky, this salamander…apparently…salamanders can…"

"_Well, it did take us awhile," _interrupted Emandrel. _"Narnia unfortunately didn't have as much good literary works as we so desired. It was Temos's idea to look for literary works in other worlds. It was terribly difficult for us to find, but eventually we came to the conclusion that the Utter East, near Aslan's country, and here on the Bottom of Bism were the two places where the way between the worlds was at its thinnest. Aslan's country is far above ground, and we can never go there, not that far. And I do not think Aslan would be terribly pleased if we came around his country asking for literature. So we came here instead. It wasn't easy to find the way to look between the worlds, but we can…can't travel between them, of course, and we only use this ability to read books," _Emandrel added almost apologetically.

The magistrate was looking around frantically now. "Where's that…that voice?"

"That's Emandrel. He's a salamander. He was explaining how he can see between the worlds. He's being very kind and helping me look into Tahalset and communicate with you. Yarrin's claws, magistrate, I'm so glad to speak with you again. It has been far too long, and I thought I'd never see my home again."

"Salamanders." The magistrate shivered. "Living in another world and talking with salamanders? Where are you, then?"

"The bottom of the world, apparently. It's called Bism."

"What world?"

"Narnia. It's a very strange world. Listen, I'll be more than willing to tell you all about it when I come back."

"When…when you…"

"Come back, magistrate. I've been away for so long. I don't know what happened to anyone, not to my brothers, not to my parents…I…" Sara found the tears rising unbidden into her eyes as she thought of them, her parents who were no doubt long dead, and her brothers…perhaps their children still existed. "I have missed it very much," she said. "I've tried everything to get back, I've waited, I've prayed…there's nothing I would leave behind here if I left now, magistrate." The giants at Harfang would take care of themselves. She told Janile what to do in her absence, and no doubt Janile would do it. The giants weren't stupid…at least, for the most part they weren't stupid. They lived for years without her guidance, and now after her six years as Harfang's lady, she'd done and taught them enough where they most likely could live on their own.

She wanted to go home. That's what it all came down to. She didn't want Narnia anymore, not this horrible world that had nothing but blood and bad memories. "I've done things here," she admitted. "And I will atone for any bad things I have done when I come back. You can punish me as you see fit, magistrate. All I ask is that…that I can return back home, if you will allow it. Please allow it. I have tried so hard to find a way, and…and the gods have still brought me to this salamander that is showing me my blessed home once again. Please, magistrate. I…I am so tired. I would so love to go home."

It would be different, she knew. Her entire world had changed…she saw that in her so far short conversation with the magistrate. But that didn't matter to her. She'd worry about all those changes once she got back, once she returned again to her home. She wanted to leave Narnia and all it represented behind. 

The magistrate nodded slowly. "Understandable, Miss Inari," she replied seriously. "It must have been difficult, so cut off from the…civilized world." The magistrate rose. "Give me a moment, I'll get the master book…we've compiled all the worlds we've seen in a book…I'll get it. We'll worry about the details later, yes? When we bring you back, we'll figure out all the…complications." The magistrate rose, continuing to talk half with Sara and half to herself as she wandered around the library. "We always sent out people out and brought them back soon. Having you back, I warn you, it's been nearly a century then, no easy job on you. No easy job on us…my warnings are that most people will treat you as ancient…history." She selected a thick red book and pulled it off the shelf. "Do you mind that?"

"No, magistrate, not at all!" Sara said quickly. "They can call me anything that they would like, I won't mind. Compared to…to what they've said here. The adjustment, I'm sure I can handle it." She felt her heart racing, and clenched her hands to stop them from shaking. She was going back. Back where people knew what enchantresses were and didn't think of them as witches. Back where her native tongue was spoken, where shapeshifting was normal, where no one looked twice at you if you mentioned anything about magic. Home, where she'd never again have to see Rilian…or think of him, and he would never have to see her again, either. Of course, the transition to her world where everything had changed would be so difficult and so busy that she wouldn't have time to think of him anymore. He could go on with his blessed Lady Sal and she would be…she would be home.

She would be _home. _

"Thank you, magistrate," she whispered hoarsely. "Thank you so much. I will be forever grateful to you, anything you may want of me, merely ask and I shall do it."

"Yes, yes, of course," the magistrate replied, flipping through the book. "What did you say the world was again?"

"Narnia,"

"Narnia. Right. I'll look." She pointed. "Here it is. Narnia, ruled by a…it says here a king and queen, normal monarchy, yes? And a Prince Rilian. That's the only honest name here. And a healer called Nirisath." The magistrate raised an eyebrow. "The entire country is ruled by a king, queen, prince, and…healer?"

"No, no, not at all! That's what…well I never actually told Hylaea that, but those are the only names that I gave her. Those were the people that…I knew…before I lost all communication. I worked for Nirisath, she was a naiad, a healer who lived on the banks of the Great River."

"Yes, that's there. The Great River. Major landmarks: Great River, Shuddering Wood. Capital city: Cair Paravel, located by the sea. Talking Beasts…all Beasts talk, apparently?"

"No, there are some who don't, but it's not at all like Tahalset. There are Badgers that speak as well, Squirrels, Chipmunks…it's not just Horses."

"How odd!" the magistrate mused. "Strange world, sounds like. Well, that's what the Grand Magistrate said she heard from…most reliable sources."

Sara smiled. "That's what I told her when we spoke."

"Reliable sources indeed," the magistrate smiled in return. "Well, I don't need information, just need to find out that…ah,"

"Ah?"

"Ah. Er…yes. Ah. Just needed to find out Narnia's class."

"Class?"

"Other worlds project as not been easy. We have to categorize all the worlds we find into classes." The magistrate suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Narnia, as it is written, is a class seven."

"What does that mean?"

The magistrate lowered the book, and was silent for a long time. "That…that you have my deepest apologies, Miss Inari."

"For what?"

"For…" the magistrate sighed. "There are records here of people who have tried to get into Narnia. Most of them are on the account of the Grand Magistrate and some of her close group members, again in search of the Grand Magistrate's friend who supposedly disappeared into that world. All of their initial efforts were unsuccessful, and it was believed that Narnia was unfortunately a dead world. We discovered many of those, worlds that have, alas, ended. When all those tries failed, Narnia was assumed dead."

"It's not. Maybe now…"

"Well, we know it's not dead. The Grand Magistrate managed to look into it once, she saw…oh, I don't even remember what she saw now, but she found it and it proved that Narnia was living. The project was started again. Everyone did put effort into it, thinking…well, mostly just for the success of adding a world that was so important to the Grand Magistrate to the list of all the other worlds we've found our way to. The experiments proved that…that Narnia was a class seven. I didn't know it was under seven, or I wouldn't have said all the things I did. Miss Inari, please accept my apologies."

"For…for what?"

"_Yes, for what?" _Emandrel's thin, hissing voice interrupted them both. _"I've never read about any world classes, and believe me, I've read a lot. Just bring this lady back and worry about it later."_

"Why are you so interested in having me go back?" she asked Emandrel.

"_Well, you asked," _Emandrel replied. _"You asked to see your world. So if you want to go back, I'd rather want you to, since you obviously want to. The folk from Bism don't really ask all that much of us, you see." _He added. _"They aren't that interested in literature. They come to hear us talk but don't talk much to us. Of course, the only ones that come down here are the elders. All the rest aren't allowed. Ridiculous Bism laws."_

"Oh. Well, then."

"I am sorry," the magistrate repeated.

"For what?" Sara demanded, standing up and glaring at the fire. "What? You haven't even told me what, and I don't particularly care what, I just want to come home again. Please tell me you understand that."

"I do," the magistrate replied quietly. "And I would be, too, had I been away from Mayharran for as long as you. But Narnia is class seven. I don't know why. No one ever did."

"I don't know your classifications, magistrate."

"No, no, you wouldn't…" the magistrate waved her hand in the air. "Most of the worlds we've added to our empire…" Sara couldn't help but think then how odd it was to hear Tahalset referred to as an empire, when it never seemed like that before. "Are one through four, those are the easiest worlds. Easy to get in to, some are easy to conquer and some easy to bargain with, it all depends. Seven is…there are many worlds that are class seven. Earth…the world of humans, you might have heard of them? They too are seven. Narnia is a seven. It means…" the magistrate gave a heavy sigh. "That it is impossible to enter without outside influence."

"And that means? What outside influence? Here, I say you can come here, would that…"

"Meaning the world cannot be breached," the magistrate said quickly. "There is no way in unless someone…presumably the primary leader of the world, or perhaps whatever gods they have there…allow you in. We call it a closed world because it can't be entered, not by our own means that we use to get into all the other worlds. There's no way to bring anything in our out of a closed world. Believe me, it's been tried…but…it's protected. Narnia is one of those protected worlds."

It took Sara a moment to process what exactly the magistrate said.

"Meaning you can't bring me back," she said softly.

The magistrate nodded. "Terribly sorry, Miss Inari. If I could, I would certainly do so. But it is not within my power." She gave a helpless shrug. "There are many closed worlds…we have records of about ten at the moment, Narnia included. Hardly anyone pays attention to Narnia, really, which is why I didn't know right away that it was closed. Narnia has never really been of interest to us economically or politically, and it was only when the Grand Magistrate mentioned your name that we looked into it. But we haven't, not for years, and it's still closed, I'm afraid. We haven't found a way to open these worlds yet."

"But it can be done!" Sara exclaimed. "It can, I've seen it. There was a woman here, hundreds of years ago, it was because of her that I got here in the first place. She created a gate that could breach all those worlds. The magic wasn't perfected when she died, and the gate turned spontaneous, and that's how it accidentally brought me here. It focused for a moment in Mayharran."

"Really?" for a moment the magistrate looked really interested. "But I don't suppose you have any of that information with you now, do you?"

"No, it was all at the ruined castle. I didn't take it. I didn't…have a need for it."

"Ah. That is also too bad." Another deep sigh. "But I'm afraid we don't have that same information or power than that woman you mentioned. We haven't found a way to get into closed worlds or bring things out. We've only observed them, and even then, not that much. We don't find a great need to break into closed worlds when there are so many open ones that we have access to. I am truly sorry."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you are,"

"_How terrible," _came Emandrel's voice. _"I think I'm sorry, too, you looked so desperately yearning to return to the place of your birth. Magistrate, terrible thing for you to do as well, get this fine lady's hopes up like that. I don't approve at all. And I'm sure were Madros to take an interest in being here, he would dislike it as well. He is the only one that takes an interest in Tahalset literature, little that it is." _And he gave the salamander equivalent of a sniff.

"If we find a way, Miss Inari…"

"Yes. I know. I'll be the first to know." Sara finished bitterly. "Emandrel, close the gate."

The magistrate blinked. "But if you would, we can still…"

"Close the gate, Emandrel!"

"_Don't you want to…"_

"I said close it!"

The last thing she had a view of was the magistrate's surprised look, then that faded down to only the beautiful Tahalset library, and then finally it all flicked out and there was nothing but the overly bright lava and the curious pinched, scaly salamander face looking out at her through the light. Emandrel blinked several times slowly, then sat down, crossing his paws in front of him.

"_You could have talked to her more," _Emandrel offered. _"If you had some silver, maybe, I could use that to make the connection stronger…silver always helps hold magical workings, so you could have spoken longer,"_

"I didn't want to," Sara snapped back. "She can do what she wants, and I…I'll…I'll do what I want."

Emandrel tilted his head. _"If I could help further I would," _he offered.

"Well, you can't." She snarled, but then realized that wasn't fair to the salamander. "No, don't listen to my harsh words, Emandrel. You've helped me far more than anyone else in this world has. But I'm afraid I can't stay here anymore." She stood up and turned away from the river of fire.

"_And go where?" _Emandrel asked. 

"I don't know," she replied.


	20. Chapter 20

((thank you again, MER! I am always happy knowing you are reading this :)

Luneko! A person after my own heart! I'm studying music education at college, but my other option was criminal psychology and there are times I still wonder why I didn't end up going with that! Isn't it fascinating? I'd highly recommend the Myst series to you…it's several games as well as novels that go along with it, and the fourth game…Revelation…is amazing because the whole premise is getting into the minds of these two characters, figuring out their motives, and trying to see if they have redeemed or not. It's awesome. Anyway, that aside, I am so very glad you like this story! It was difficult to get her to transition like that, and took…well, a really long time. This is the story that I always worry about because I'm never sure if I've done it right despite all the work. Reviews like yours make me very happy and make those moments of frustration and times I ranted at my characters at 3am worth it :) ))

Virk lowered his head graciously as Thanagel placed the necklace around his neck.

"Elder Virk," he said. "Welcome to the council."

"Thank you, Thanagel," Virk stood up straight again and shook Thanagel's hand. "I am honored that you would accept me as the second."

"You are Thark's brother, after all." replied Thanagel. "And you have my word, Thark will be honored and his bravery not forgotten, fellow elder." There were nods all around the rest of the council as they agreed.

"But first," Virk said, taking his proper place next to Thanagel at the head of the council. "First we have to decide what is to be done. If my brother is to be avenged…we have to know…how exactly to deal with this."

Thanagel smiled approvingly at Virk. He was clearly Thark's brother…only recently named elder and already was eager to get down to business and solve their problems. It was perfect…it showed how great an elder Virk would live to become. Bism didn't have problems, and when problems arose they had to be dealt with and quashed as soon as possible so they didn't develop into larger problems. After all, that sort of thing…all those problems spiraling out of control…that only happed in the overworld. And Bism was _not _the overworld, and would never be.

"From your mouth to your feet, Elder Virk," said Councilman Three. "And yours, Elder Thanagel."

Thanagel relaxed. Now with the proper words, the proper council meeting could begin. His eyes scanned the room before them…all eight councilmen were seated on their chairs, raised a few inches off the ground. Only Thanagel and Virk were sitting on the floor.

"Very well," Thanagel said. "Let us proceed. The order of business at this council meeting on this day is as follows." Virk handed Thanagel the scroll. Thanagel unrolled it and cleared his throat. "Issue the first," he began. "Is the question of the Thief Mullugutherum. His first crime being the stealing of Elder Thark's half, and the punishment for that was exile to the cavern of the sleepers as its guard."

There were murmurs through the council as that sentence was approved. Exile to the shallow lands was an appropriate punishment.

"His second crime…" Thanagel shook his head. "His second crime was, after being declared a thief and put in exile in the shallow lands, descending below his station to this very house to seek us out."

There were murmurs throughout the whole council at Thanagel's words. Looks of disgust passed among all the councilmen and Virk as well. This was an even worse crime in and of itself. Bism law worked the opposite of that in the surface…the higher one stood, the lower their status in life. The prison on the hill, how high that was, showed how the prisoners kept there were next to nothing. To be exiled to the shallow lands and stand guard there alone showed that the person in exile was nothing, not even fit to be seen or spoken to by any elder. The river of fire where the salamanders lived was the lowest point in Bism, and the entirety of Bism held the salamanders in the highest regard. Of all the gnomes living there, the house of the elders and council was the lowest house. To descend below one's status was one of the worst crimes in existence, especially for a thief exiled to the shallow lands. By returning to the elder's house, he was showing his belief that he was on equal par with the elders.

"His third crime…"

"Third!" interrupted Councilman Four. "This thief has three crimes to his record?"

"Three," murmured Six. "Absolutely unheard of."

"This is not all you will hear of today that is unheard of," Thanagel replied dryly. "Now may I continue?"

"Continue, Thanagel," Virk said. "Don't bother with what they say until you've finished reading, go on now."

Thanagel smiled. He liked Virk. Maybe Virk would even prove a stronger leader than Thark.

"His third crime was not only to descend below his station, but to associate with and fail to prevent an overworlder from coming in contact with our people here."

There were gasps among the council, and even the otherwise strong Virk grimaced.

"Do go into detail, Thanagel," Virk implored. "None of us were there."

"Yes, I was just about to get to that, Virk," Thanagel replied. "That ties in with the crimes of the overworlder." His eyes roamed further down the paper. "The crimes pertaining to the overworlder in question are numerous. The first is to use her magic and power to escape from the cavern of sleepers, therefore breaking through our strongest defense. The second lesser crime was to disobey the direct orders of an elder through the time that she was under our supervision and was brought here. There were numerous acts of disobedience in question. Third was in numerous acts descending below her station as an overworlder and presuming herself to be greater than myself. The fourth…" he shivered. "The fourth was the murder of Elder Thark at her own hand."

No one spoke at the mention of that crime. There was movement around the room as all the elders touched their heads and then their feet in absolution.

"By the Lion's feet," Virk said. "I thought it was only a rumor, this murder. You told me my brother was murdered, but I hadn't actually thought it true."

"I'm afraid it is true, Virk," Thanagel laid a hand on one of Virk's feet in utmost apology. "I was there when it happened." He addressed the council then as well as Virk. "She had a giant with her…that's another terrible overworld creature…and he was afraid and wanted to return to the surface. He was panicking and going to bring the entire walls down on us, burying us alive. Thark had killed the giant in his own defense to save us all. The overworlder…then…" Thanagel took several deep breaths, the horror of what he had seen still lingering. "She took Thark and said something…oh, I forget what she said, but it was terrible, whatever it was. Then she took her knife and…" Thanagel's voice dropped down to a shaky whisper. "And slit Thark's throat. She didn't even look sorry about what she had done. Murder."

"No one murders," said Eight. "It simply isn't done,"

"I know," replied Thanagel. "I am aware of that, Councilman Eight. But it was done. Overworlders, you know…living their life on the surface of the world in madness and anarchy, with nothing but lies and deception like that Witch and her terrible winter,"

"Overworlders," said One. "This is why it is better that we never speak to them, lest we become as terrible as they. This overworlder is one of them and her murder is apparently fine in the eyes of the overworld."

"So what is to be done?" whispered Seven. No one knew what to do, not even the elders. Thievery could be dealt with, but murder was so far forbidden that no one even considered it. There hadn't been an act of murder done in Bism since they sealed themselves off from the overworld and laid down the spells on the cavern of the sleepers in defense.

"First," Virk said, breaking the horrible silence. "We should deal with the thief. His punishment is…is easier to determine."

The council relaxed at Virk's words and they all nodded in agreement.

"Very well," Thanagel said. "I have been considering it, and I believe an adequate punishment would be permanent exile."

"To where?" interrupted Five. "With all those crimes to his name, it would not be right only to send him back to the cavern of the sleepers. That is not high enough for one such as that."

"Where do you propose we send him, then?" asked Four. "All the way to the overworld?"

"No!" Three exclaimed. "That would mean one of us would have to go with him!"

Six and Eight held up their hands in agreement with Three.

"I never said anything about the overworld," said Thanagel. "The cavern of the sleepers is a large place, Councilman Five. There is the exit that leads down to us, and there is the entrance where the overworlders find their way in. My proposition would be permanent exile to the overworlders' entrance. Let the thief guard that for the rest of his life. Is it high enough?"

"I think so," Virk affirmed. "High enough for a thief with that many crimes to his name. Send him to guard the entrance permanently. That has my vote."

"And mine," said Three.

"Confirmed?"

"Do you confirm it, Elder Thanagel?"

"Yes. And you, Elder Virk?"

"Yes."

"Then it is done." Thanagel took a quill and crossed off the first half of the scroll. "The punishment for the thief Mullugutherum is permanent exile to guard the entrance to the cavern. So it has been decided and is done."

The others repeated those words, and Mullugutherum's sentence was official. Then all the council looked at each other, not knowing what to do now. No one wanted to take on the daunting task of assigning a punishment to the overworlder.

"Well then," Virk said. "Let us continue. You all heard the crimes done by the overworlder. What would be an appropriate punishment? We certainly can't exile her to the surface. That's what she wants, no doubt."

"She does," Thanagel confirmed. "She asked me numerous times if we would bring her back."

"Then what?" Five looked despairing. "What do we do?"

"I was thinking…"

"No," Virk's voice was suddenly harsh. "She killed my brother. Let me decide what to do with her."

Thanagel looked at the elders, all of them exchanging looks.

"Very well," Thanagel said unsurely. "As Virk's brother was the departed in question, then Virk can be allowed to decide the punishment." He said formally. "Agreed?"

There was a few moment's hesitation, but eventually all the councilmen agreed.

"Thank you," Virk said. "Well, I have thought about this for days now. There is nothing we can do that could possibly equal the crime, and we can't bring Thark back and neither could she. My punishment is thus." Thanagel was surprised to hear Virk's normally strong voice shaking with emotion. "Take this overworlder, and let us wipe her memory, then send her to the cavern of the sleepers where she will stay for all eternity and not wake until the end of the world. Many sink to the bottom…and she will never return to the sunlit lands. Thus I have spoken."

Thanagel looked at Virk in disbelief. It was a logical punishment, but still harsh. The last time something like that was done was when someone had, in a fit of rage against something or another (the crime had been lost to time, but the punishment had not) had intentionally harmed a salamander.

"Are you sure, Elder Virk?" asked Seven tremulously.

"Yes," Virk was firm. "That is my punishment. If you disagree…" Virk's voice faded off as he looked at the others, narrowing his eyes. "Then speak now."

Thanagel expected disagreement, but there wasn't any. There was fear for a moment…naturally, with a punishment such as that one…but then the fear passed and a few councilmen nodded. Then more and more nodded, and finally Thanagel dared to look at Virk. Virk was sitting there looking satisfied, smiling. He nodded at Thanagel and smiled even more.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" whispered Thanagel. "As one elder to another, I can say that hasn't been done in a very long time."

"Neither has murder," replied Virk. "My brother was not given a chance. There is no reason we should give this overworlder a chance either. Who knows what she may do again?"

And thus it was decided. Virk took the scroll and wrote the decision upon it in the bold pen he held, then rolled the scroll back up and nodded in affirmation at Thanagel and the rest of the council.

It was the harshest punishment the council had given in a long time. Even Thanagel felt a slight shiver of fear at the prospect. It was right, of course. When murder was done, when the corruption of the overworld reached its terrible fingers across to Bism, they had to do all in their power to eradicate it. This was the only way.

"Very well," Thanagel took the scroll. "Two days from now will hold the exile of the thief Mullugutherum, and the obliteration of the overworlder,"

Nods and more agreements all around.

"Virk, you will go to the prison and inform the prisoners of their upcoming trial," Thanagel said. "Do this as quick as possible."

"I will," Normally Thanagel wouldn't give such orders to a fellow elder and normally Virk wouldn't obey, but Thanagel was Virk's senior, and it would be several months before Virk's word became equal law to Thanagel's. "I shall do this presently. Cannot afford any delays in this matter." Virk stood and ran a hand lightly across his necklace, his hand resting especially on the jewel at his throat. It warmed to his touch and he smiled at Thanagel, one elder to another, sharing in the same feeling that only elders and the rulers of Bism could know. Thanagel inclined his head to Virk, and Virk departed.

The sentence would be carried out quickly and efficiently. No need to slow things down, not even for surprises like this. Bism was not a place for surprises to leave a lasting mark. Time moved on in overworld, but Bism was always a constant. It was something Thanagel knew far before he was even considered for the position of elder.

He wished Virk well. It would not be an easy task. But soon it would be over.

"Dismissed," Thanagel reminded the council, and they too left.

* * *

"You're mad," Mullugutherum's voice was barely over a whisper as he peered at her from where he was crouched in the back, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Absolutely mad. Why did you come back? I'd never go back if I ran away," he looked almost wistful. "I'd run to the land of salamanders and I'd live by the river of fire for all eternity. Why didn't you do that? I would,"

Shut up, she felt like telling Mullugutherum. In her mind he was silent, in her mind she had him locked away in that room over there not bothering her, his whiney, petulant voice not reaching her ears. But she didn't act on it, only closed her eyes and tried to shut it out and pretend that it was true. If she thought hard enough, it could be. She could imagine him gone, and…and he would be. Just like that.

If she closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she could see Mayharran again, just as vividly as if she reached out and ran her hands along the old bookshelves that she knew so well. She could pretend that Mullugutherum's voice didn't have the heavy sound that all the gnomes did, but instead carry the light, trilling accent of all Mayharran citizens. After all, she had heard it again, and seen it, too. There was no mistaking the magistrate and all her words for anything out of Sara's imagination.

For a moment she had truly believed she would go back. It was a wondrous moment…the magistrate's tight-lipped smile promising things that she had always wanted to happen, assuring her that it would happen now, that she would come back. It had been too many years away and she had almost wept tears of joy at the sight of the Mayharran library again.

That was a sight too quickly taken away again, vanished into the odd light of the river of fire, and the salamander's sad eyes and scaly body as he apologized in a somber tone for her loss.

What did he know of loss! What did any salamander? Living their lives in their river of fire, discussing literature and watching the Bism gnomes, commenting on their lives and smiling in their superior intellect and eloquence. Her home was truly gone now, and Emandrel's apology meant nothing to her. What did salamanders know about being homeless, about wandering around forever in order to find a place that she could sit in a chair and look out the window and truly call it home…

And even if she returned…

She hadn't much thought about that before. Her parents, her family, they were long dead. She would never see them again. They would have died without knowledge of what happened to their daughter, to their sister, vanished into another world by accident and then never heard from again, and she would never be able to reach across the years and tell them. And Hylaea, her best friend, the girl with whom she had done countless things that could get them into all sorts of trouble, the girl who used to put ice cream on her head and dance around the room strumming her mandolin and singing outrageously stupid songs when they should have been practicing…becoming…what had they called it? Grand Magistrate. Such a huge title for someone that Sara remembered as small, slightly odd, but no less intelligent. It was fitting that Hylaea should hold such a high position. But she too had died, leaving nothing back at home for Sara…no family, no old friends, only that stupid picture that the magistrate had kept of her and Hylaea when they were first years. Wasn't that just the ideal homecoming!

But there wasn't going to be any homecoming of any sort, terrible or not.

"It is so nice to hear the salamanders speak," Mullugutherum was still talking, the damned gnome! "I would stay and hear them. They talk about all kinds of strange things. But I haven't heard them in years…what did they say to you?"

Shut up, she ordered again, but still said nothing.

Worst of all were the magistrate's words at the end…Narnia was a closed world. A protected world. Some sort of force prevented people from entering or leaving without the permission of…of…whatever force that was. Something in this damnable world was keeping her here, refusing to let her go…and she would gladly leave! In a heartbeat she would be gone, and wouldn't bother to plague this world any further with her presence. But no, it insisted she stay. It insisted she remain, despite taking everything away from her.

And what a beautiful land everyone claimed it to be! Words of Narnia's greatness spanned the library at Harfang, the deepest areas of Archenland, even…she remembered…even the Calormen people, far to the south, knew how powerful and important Narnia was and how they too would have power if only they could get to Narnia. Yes, what a beautiful land to be trapped in! But a beautiful prison, decorated with jewels and sunlight and mystical voices, could not hide the cold walls and the locked door that made it what it was.

It had been home once, for a time. If she ignored Mullugutherum's voice enough she could focus on Nirisath's, even though she hadn't heard or seen Nirisath in six years. She could remember the naiad's stern voice and sharp words, yet her brilliance in healing and the fact that she had always been kind to her. Sara never saw Nirisath since then and wished she could, for she knew…in her childish arrogance…that she hadn't properly thanked the naiad for all she had done, that she had only put her nose in the air and felt she could change anything. She should have been kinder to Nirisath and more thankful…now she wouldn't have that chance, not being trapped thousands of miles below the surface in an underground prison. But Nirisath's had certainly been home, with its constant smell of herbs and damp earth and being awoken at ridiculous hours to do some menial healing task because Nirisath was too tired. Or even Rilian, even though she hated to think of that, hated to admit to herself that even as she was here in this prison, she wondered what he would say if he had seen this strange land of Bism, wondered what comments he would make on their elders, if he would sit there and talk with the salamanders and actually try to make sense of what they were saying. She knew he would. He would love the salamanders, and…and she had to stop, she refused to think of him here, or what could have been, what…what should have been…

And of course that was gone as well, stolen away as quickly as her homeland had been. She had come so close to understanding Narnia, to living in it, to the point where even if she was trapped it would not be such a bad thing. But Narnia had insisted on taking that from her too, and leaving her with a castle of giants miles above her head that had no idea where she went. Yes, a beautiful land indeed!

She laughed, a strange echoing sound in the prison, and Mullugutherum stopped speaking then. He huddled further against the wall, not liking that sound. It wasn't a pleasant sound, it was harsh and horrid.

What the hell was there left to do now? Resign to her fate as a prisoner of Bism, condemned to whatever sentence they decided to lavish upon her? Die out her days miles below the surface in a land she didn't know, with a prisoner who refused to be quiet. Yes, that, too, was such a pleasant idea.

Or perhaps she could die. Yes, wouldn't that be an idea? She could find the fireplace and throw in even more fire powder and take out the entire building…no, with enough power, this entire half of Bism. She would die and take half of them with her, leaving nothing but a blasted crater as a tribute to her memory. A brilliant final stand, even though it would leave the Harfang giants forever wondering what happened to her. How fitting…let them wonder now as well. And half of Bism would be in ashes…

Destruction. She didn't know all that much about it, spending so much time thinking only of healing, creating, fixing. What would that be like, to see an entire world awash in flames? Terrifying while it lasted, then dead as the fire went out…but fire too could be good, couldn't it? It was the same in healing. Sometimes an infected leg had to be removed before the gangrene spread to the rest of the person's body and poisoned them. Removal of the limb was terrible, but it let the person live…destruction for the purpose of creation…

That would be the best way to die. That was the way all enchantresses died…not old and sick and frail, but in one single blaze of glory to light the night sky before fading again into darkness.

Bang!

She opened her eyes. That had not come from her imagination.

Bang! "Announcing Elder Virk, demanding entrance to the prison on the hill!"

Sara looked at Mullugutherum. The gnome was pressed so far into the wall that he looked like he wanted to blend into it and disappear completely.

"Don't let him in," Mullugutherum said in a frightened whisper. "He's come to give us our sentence! That's the only reason elders come into this prison. That's what happened last time!"

Sara turned back to the door. Ah, so she would be sentenced now, along with this gnome. Maybe she would stay to hear what they had in store for her. Perhaps then she would destroy this place, if it was worth it.

"Don't!" but Mullugutherum's voice was silenced as the door swung open.

Elder Virk was different than Thark, but it was obvious their relation. He had the same trunk that Thark did, and the same eyes, and the same oddly colored skin…she couldn't put any specific color to it. Like Thark he was wearing the long, glimmery robes, holding that spear, and with a strange crystal around his neck. He was almost as tall as Sara, coming up to her chin when she was standing. He entered with only two guards…apparently he was braver than that other elder.

He held a tightly wound scroll in one hand, and the look he gave her could have frozen the entire Great River at that moment.

"Stand up, thief!" barked Virk. Mullugutherum, by this point crouched down and looking at the floor as if the floor could save him, leaped up and immediately began cowering down before the elder.

"Oh, forgive me, elder!" Mullugutherum whimpered. "Forgive me of all the things I have done, just give me a chance and I will fix it, I will repent! I'm sorry!"

"Silence," Virk's voice wasn't loud but it carried command with it. "First, your sentence." He was also very to the point, and ignored Mullugutherum's frantic whimpering and the way his eyes darted everywhere but the elder's face. "For your crimes, you will be sentenced to guarding the overworlder's entrance to the cavern of the sleepers for the rest of your life. You will not return to Bism no matter what, and if we have another incident like…this one…then you will find a different mean to communicate with us. Your exile will take place three days hence, and you will come for a final time to our meeting house in order for us to properly carry out the sentence."

Upon hearing those words, Mullugutherum covered his face with his hands and sank to the floor.

"Please, elder," he pleaded. "I will do anything for you. Your power is so much greater than mine, I always submit to you, please forgive me! Don't do this! I'll do anything, elder, anything…"

"You are forbidden to speak to me again," Virk said sharply, banging his staff on the ground for emphasis. "Ever. As of now, you are no longer a citizen of Bism." Mullugutherum made another small noise at this, but didn't say anything further.

"Now, overworlder,"

"What do you want?" Sara snapped. "Come to send me away from here now? By all means, I'll leave as soon as you want."

Virk scowled. "Not quite, overworlder," he said.

"Then what? Be quick with it."

"You are forbidden to order me around in the same manner I am told you ordered Elder Thanagel," Virk's voice was cold, and it was no surprise, looking at his brother's murderer in the face. "And forbidden to question me or speak to any elder during the remainder of your…sentient…time here in Bism."

"I'll speak whenever I want to, elder or not," she replied. "I am not living under your law. I live under the laws of the magistrate of my home, and they…she is so far away, and my home is as well, and therefore I am not obligated to live under your laws simply because I am here. I wish to depart for the overworld as soon as possible."

Virk snorted. "Insolent overworlder," he said. "You live under our laws now and forever. Your sentence is thus," he continued, before she had a chance to say anything else. "The normal manner of punishment given to murderers, rare as they are, is permanent exile to the overworld. It has been done, but not in more years than I would care to count. But as you are from that overworld, such a sentence would hardly be considered a punishment. Therefore your sentence is, in three days hence, to come to the council with the thief Mullugutherum. There he will be exiled, and you will have your memory erased, and live out the rest of your days in the assigned location in Bism that we give you, namely, the cavern of the sleepers."

"Excuse me?"

"Three days from today, this will take place." Virk rolled the scroll up and nodded with satisfaction.

"I beg your pardon,"

"You have a question, overworlder?"

"Yes," She got off the bed and stood to look at Virk more closely. "I certainly do, Elder Virk," and even Virk paused, for it was the first time she referred to anyone by their proper title. "What gives you the right to think…to think you can do this?"

"It is my duty as elder," replied Virk without wavering. "The punishment must be modified to fit the person committing it, and this is what has been decided. Three days hence, overworlder."

"And what?" She took a step closer. "You'll destroy my memories, and leave it at that? No further questions asked, not why it happened, not if there are any other options?"

"The sentence has been decided, and we in Bism do not go back on our word." Virk shrugged. "Three days." Was all he said, and then he and his guards swept grandly out of the room.

For a moment, Sara could only stare at the door. Then she whirled around and glared at Mullugutherum, frozen in his position. "You don't mean to tell me they will actually do that," she demanded. "You can't…they can't be serious. You don't just wipe someone's memory, that's impossible, not to mention completely unethical! Who do they think they are?"

Mullugutherum bit his lip. "That's the law," he whispered. "We're not below it. It just is. That's their sentence. I will be exiled and can't ever go back to Bism now. It's the way it's done."

"The way it's done," she laughed softly. "I'm so tired of hearing that phrase, Mullugutherum. In this society it's not alright to murder, yet ridding someone of their memory and their entire life is accepted? What sort of world do you live in? What sort of world is this!" She walked over to the hole in the wall, sharp air blowing into the room. She was surprised they didn't say anything about it.

"I…I don't know…" stammered Mullugutherum.

"What happens then?" she asked. "After they carry this punishment out?"

"I will be exiled," he said, looking back at the ground. "And you will be sent to the cavern."

"With no memory of anything."

"No. That's what they want."

"What they want." She snorted. "Then my name will be lost forever yet again. Even I won't remember it this time. Brilliant, isn't it? The things you people come up with in this world never ceases to amaze me."

"Sorry," there wasn't much that Mullugutherum could say. He lived in this culture all his life and had never thought to see anything else beyond its traditional ways. Bism law may have been harsh, but it was all he knew, and it is what kept their world living and free of overworlder corruption.

Sara didn't know. And it didn't matter to her in the least…to hell with Bism culture!

She paced the floor now, tugging on the ends of her hair, an old habit resurfacing at this time. Forgotten.

She knew that too well by now. Every place she had been in had forgotten her sooner or later. Her world had…oh, no matter what the magistrate said, they certainly had! No one remembered her name, they only remembered the Grand Magistrate's old friend from school who was lost to a locked world. All they had was a faded picture of them as first years, and the name of Sarasael vanished into Mayharran past. She was one of the thousands of other people named Sarasael in the world, and Inari, her family had always been large and there had been so many Inaris that one of them disappearing didn't even matter. Hylaea had tried, but poor Hylaea had so many other things to do that she couldn't be expected to remember one lost friend from years ago. She had never forgotten her world. She had spent mornings in Harfang reciting all the names of her classmates, her family, everything at her home just to make sure she would never forget. Well, they certainly hadn't done that. They forgot. There was no sense to them in remembering one person, however much that one person may have remembered them.

And what of Narnia? She may not have lived there for a long time, but she had lived there. They too didn't bother to remember anything. They had forgotten her name, forgotten what she looked like…the only thing they ever said was of an old healer's apprentice who lived here and caused trouble. Nothing else…

And what they did remember…

What they did remember was lies. They forgot her name but remembered a witch. That one thought was focused in their minds were lies, lies they had made up about her and had stuck in their thoughts years after her name had faded. Witch, they had all said. Trying to take over our world, trying to steal our kingdom from us and enchant our prince. Filthy witches, returning to try it again, to destroy us once more. They never remembered her living with Nirisath and making an effort to learn how to be a healer or how she had every intention of becoming one herself. She had admired that naiad. Now Nirisath was gone too, still alive, but far away and nowhere near her old glory. Nirisath was a brilliant healer and now Narnia had forgotten that. They'd never bother to remember how much they depended on Nirisath, after she got herself entangled with a such-named witch, and they forced her out.

No one remembered Nirisath. No one remembered her apprentice, but they did remember a witch. A witch who wanted their prince…

Perhaps that was the worst of it. She could live with being a witch if she knew that was simply because words were defined differently here, and a terrible insult in her homeland was a generic term here. But that, oh, that she couldn't stand! Did they really think she would do such a thing? Especially then…she hardly knew anything about enchantment back then. And she wouldn't…she'd never do anything to harm Rilian, didn't they know that? No, they didn't…they didn't listen, they wouldn't believe her if she said anything different. And they had gone on believing it, thinking that she would steal him away from everyone else, that the only reason she spoke with him at all was to get to the rest of the kingdom. They didn't think she actually loved him. They didn't believe her when she said so.

It meant nothing to this world. It meant nothing to him either, clearly. For all he had used to say to her, all he had promised…meaningless! He had forgotten her too, threw away all they had shared, shrugged it off as nothing but a childish obsession, a brief and slightly embarrassing moment in time. He had found his beloved princess, his future queen, and cared nothing about the miscellaneous enchantress from years before. Same as the rest of Narnia. Her name meant nothing.

She stared outside at the fiery land of Bism. Now even she would forget. Her name would be gone forever, even to her own mind. Narnia wouldn't ever remember, neither would Bism, neither would she…and Rilian would never even think of her again, not after all she had done, and especially not now.

So this was how it was going to end.

This wasn't a proper end for any enchantress. They all went out in a blaze of glory, like Hylaea, becoming grand magistrate and head of a supreme project. They had their names carved forever in stone, or written down in paper where people would look at it years into the future with fond recollection. They weren't slowly eradicated from every land they had dared call home, every person they had cared about. Maybe someday when the Mayharran enchanters finally managed to break into this world, they would come looking for Hylaea's mysterious old friend, and now they'd never find her, for everyone would have forgotten by then…wouldn't that be it…

No.

No!

Gods be damned, she couldn't let that happen!

She was tired of it. Tired of being forgotten, tired of messing things up. Tired of trying to fix everything only to have it never work, only to have someone else ruin all her plans, all her attempts. Tired of spending years of effort only to have it mean absolutely nothing.

And now even this would be the end of it all. Her worthless efforts would be just as forgotten as her name.

She stopped pacing and sat back down at the edge of the bed, ignoring whatever Mullugutherum was trying to say to her. She didn't want this anymore. She had let them all do it, too…let the Narnians burn Nirisath's house, let them call her a witch, let them blame her for all their problems back then. She had tried, but it hadn't worked…she was too young and too afraid to stop them from doing it. They had power, and she had nothing. And when she tried to take power…that too had failed, for it meant nothing to Rilian. He hadn't even remembered.

And this is what it came down to. A Bism sentence and then nothing. There wasn't anything she could do, except…

Except now there was nothing to lose.

And for a moment she could see it, clear as day. Coming back to Narnia, standing in the castle of Cair Paravel with the king and queen pleading for her mercy, pleading for forgiveness for all they had let take place. She would find a way to crush their kingdom and they'd have no choice but to do as she asked. Narnia would have their witch and she…she would have Narnia.

Oh, it was preposterous.

But it was what they _wanted, _wasn't it? They had to have a witch to blame for their problems. They took her as their witch. Well, then why not give them that? If they wanted a witch so badly…

There was a fine line between a good enchantress and an evil one.

And the good ones had so many boundaries…

So many questions of ethics. She remembered _that _from school back at home. They'd have countless discussions on what was right and wrong, on what was morally acceptable for the common enchantress and what crossed over the boundary into the realm that was labeled as "evil". And there were so many lines, she remembered. Don't do this. Don't do that. Do this, but only in moderation. Be careful if you do this too many times, be careful if someone else does this and your reaction is thus…there were so many rules it was liable to drive one mad.

And hadn't she always followed these rules? Certainly. Everyone one of them she had done. She'd kept her power to herself, she'd used it to help people, she'd made every single effort to stay in the boundaries of a good enchantress…

And what had it done…

Nothing. The people still labeled her as evil, and she had still…still done murder, still had lost the one person she had ever loved. What had being a good enchantress done? The boundaries had done nothing but keep her confined.

She was tired of boundaries and tired of lines.

Evil enchantresses had no boundaries. There were no lines, no morals, nothing. They could do anything, couldn't they? They never had to worry about what to do, never had to worry about the rules. Once crossed over, there were no worries anymore. No more boundaries.

Good enchantresses would never dare steal a kingdom.

But an evil enchantress could do anything that they wanted.

That's what Narnia wanted. A witch. An evil enchantress with no limits, with no boundaries, whose world was suddenly open, a blank canvas in which anything that went onto it would be right.

There were none so brave, it was said, as those who had nothing to lose. And there were of course countless people who would have told her that it was a dreadful thing to even consider…but she had been in this world since she was sixteen, and after Nirisath was gone…there was never anyone to tell her that any of this was wrong.

It was there at that moment when Sara had an idea…a terrible, wonderful idea.

* * *

Mullugutherum had given up thinking. He decided right then that thinking wasn't proper for exiles, and therefore he should stop doing that. He was going to be exiled to that place so close to the surface…the thought made him shiver in the corner of the room that he had claimed as his own. It would be the last thing he ever owned. That close to the surface, he might as well be living there! He could almost feel the…sun…and the water…and the wind…he shuddered at the thought. And that would be his fate forever.

He shouldn't have gone back. He had ruined everything. He should have just left that overworlder alone. The overworlder would have gotten bored and done something else, and then Mullugutherum would have done his job properly and been allowed to return home once the duration of his first sentence was over. It was perfect. But then he had to go ahead and run back to the elder's office in a panic. What was that about? Got him eternal exile. That's all. And now he was stuck with this overworlder who…who looked very nearly crazy, pacing the room and shaking her head and muttering like a madwoman. She kept walking from the hole to the kitchen and back again, then looking into space and saying something else. He tried his best to ignore her. Overworlders made no sense, and this one, this one was just making it all worse.

He had only a day left in Bism before he'd never see it again. Maybe he should savor it. Go out and take a walk, maybe even go as low as to see the salamanders and talk to them. He'd never get another chance. What else could they do to him? His sentence was already proclaimed.

He stood up and meant to climb out the window, just like the overworlder did.

At that moment, she giggled. Mullugutherum froze, just because it was such an unnatural sound…no one laughed all that much in Bism, especially not like _that_…and it was clear this overworlder was mad anyway. She giggled again, and Mullugutherum looked at her. She was sitting again, staring off into space, and smiled. Then she smiled at _him. _And he didn't like that.

"Mullugutherum," she said quietly.

"Yes?" he took a step back. He didn't like the way she spoke. He didn't like crazy overworlders. No one in Bism was ever crazy, he knew that.

"How would you like to help me?"

"Help you do what?"

She looked at the door. "In three days from now, the elders are going to exile you forever, and wipe my memory. Tell me…do you want this to happen?"

"Well, of course not," Mullugutherum replied uncertainly.

"I know how we can stop that from happening."

No, she didn't. Mullugutherum hoped she didn't. "I…suppose…"

"If you'll agree to help me, I'll tell you. It would be easier with your help, though I can do it on my own."

Mullugutherum shifted uncomfortably on the floor. What does one say to this exactly? No? He didn't trust the mad overworlder to do anything, and especially against the elders. The elders had made their laws and now they were becoming victims of that law, and elders' laws always came out on top of anything anyone might do. Mullugutherum knew this. She didn't.

But she was an overworlder. She was from that terrible place of lies and deceit and trickery and eternal winter and all the horrible stories that all gnomes are told from the moment of their birth. Maybe she knew things that he didn't.

What if she was more powerful than the elders?

Mullugutherum liked power.

His eyes flicked around the room, from the messy bed that she spent hardly any time in to the empty food trays left lying about, and finally back to the mad overworlder herself. Mullugutherum didn't want to be exiled. He knew it was the right punishment, but still…who in the world would actually want to go through with the punishment they were doled out? The very idea made Mullugutherum's skin crawl. What if she could do something?

He had seen her at work before. She'd made Elder Thanagel stop for her on the boat. She made him do what she wanted, and he could see the disgust and frustration in Thanagel's face. It was a weakness, and Mullugutherum never thought that elders had any weaknesses. That was power right there. And he liked that. He always liked power. He managed to get his first sentence reduced…they were going to do this to him the first time, this permanent exile…but he had managed to convince them to lower it by appealing to their power, by showing his great admiration of them. He did admire the elders, for all he hated them. He looked at those like Thanagel, and Thark, and they were so low and so powerful. They liked hearing that.

"Well? Will you help me?"

Mullugutherum hesitated. If he said yes, well, she might actually succeed. But then he'd be throwing his lot in with a probably insane overworlder condemned to an even worse fate than he was, and if it failed, he'd suffer the same fate. He didn't want that at all. But if she did it, then what?

It was too much for Mullugutherum to think. He wasn't used to this much thinking. He was a very simple gnome, his only goal in life being to bow down to those in power until he eventually got some for himself. Granted, that was what landed him his first sentence…

"What's…your plan?" he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. Wait to hear it. Then see.

"I refuse to have this done to me. I'm sure you don't either. Listen, there's certain things I can do that are…were…forbidden to me previously. If I can do it correctly, it will save both of us from the fate that the elders have decreed."

"You can do that?"

"It's part of my plan. Oh, it's such a grand plan, at the same time so preposterous…impossible…shall I tell you? Oh might as well, you're the only living thing in this prison with me, not that you'll know half of what I say," She shook her head. "It's quite simple really, almost astonishingly so…like something out of the Ten Voyages of Tiendra, some sort of mythical plot drawn out across the ages. See, Mullugutherum, that's one thing that people never forget…myths. If you do something so grand and so preposterous that it is almost unreal, almost too ridiculous to be true, people remember that…forever. It's written in the pattern of the world and Yarrin himself stops for creations like that. Well, I'm going to do that, Mullugutherum. I'm going to create something so grand and so…so…" she unfurled her hands in midair. "So ridiculous, and so terrible, and yet…no one will forget it. If I succeed, that is."

Mullugutherum shivered. He didn't like this talk. No one in Bism ever talked like this. Power or not, fascinating or not, he didn't like it either way.

"And I'll start right here," she nodded firmly. "It's perfect. No one in the overworld even knows this land of yours exist. I'm sure you know that…you've made absolute sure to keep as far from the surface as possible, yes? All your guards and protections…it's ideal. No one will know this land at all, and there's so much of it…with…all those passages here, all that unused land. And all these people here. But I need something more…I can't just…it would be too much." She started pacing back and forth again. "But either way. I can figure that out. My plan…it…it will be more grand and more preposterous than anything anyone ever heard of. But first I need a kingdom…a real one, not Harfang. There is nothing wrong with Harfang, of course, but…but it can be easily defeated. Narnia has shown countless times that they can easily defeat giants, should the giants venture too close…and plus, I have already signed the treaties! To go against my word would alert them to my idea,"

"What…what idea?"

She seemed to barely notice he was there. "My idea is simple," she said thoughtfully. "Hopefully it will be enough." She shook her head. "Well, I will start with your Bism. My ideas are still vague concerning that, but since your elders are so powerful…I will need help on this…I have to...yes. Yes. You will help me." She focused back on Mullugutherum. "Once I figure out how to reach this point. I will take control of your Bism, and then…then…" she gestured vaguely above their heads. "There is so much area above us, yet far below the surface, that no one knows exists. I didn't, and I assure you that no one else in the world of Narnia knows it does. There is all that space, those tunnels…they can be expanded…and built upon! There is rock, and fire, and with the power of Bism…I can create a kingdom!" Her eyes were bright, illuminated with a strange and vicious idea. "Once I take Bism, I can use all of them…especially your elders. With them under my power, I will bring us all through the tunnels to that vast underland…what did you call it? Shallow lands? And there is where I shall build my kingdom. It will be larger than anything anyone has seen, it will be the kingdom of legends, the fortress out of all the old myths…with towers and parapets, with grand reliefs sculpted in the rock and looking out across the city. It will be bigger than Cair Paravel, bigger than the Mayharran Girls' School, bigger than…than anything! And all underground, no one will ever know it exists. Such a terribly ironic idea, wouldn't that be? An entire kingdom under their feet and they will never know. It's brilliant. It's fantastic. Once I build it," she finished with a frown. Then she shook her head again.

"And when I finish this kingdom…or at least when I've just about completed it…well, I will use it. Narnia wants a witch, and I will give them the greatest witch they've ever seen. They'll never forget my name. I will take that kingdom of mine and find my way to the surface. And with hundreds and thousands of your Bism folk, I shall reach out…and take Narnia for myself!" she laughed. "It'll be marvelous. They always said I was going to take over their world. Well, now I will. And I'll have a kingdom so vast that their precious king and queen can't do a damn thing against it. I will stand at the head of my army…and hold out my hand, like this…" she gestured. "And they will go forth and overwhelm Cair Paravel and then…and then, I shall stand at the head of it all and the king and queen will beg for my mercy. And then Narnia will be mine. And when Narnia is mine…then…then I can open it," she nodded vigorously. "And once I have it under my hands, in my control, I can do anything with Narnia that I want. Their Aslan won't be able to stop me. I will open this world, and then I will come back here and go to your salamanders and then I will talk to the magistrate again, and she will see the world is open and I will get home then. I will find my way. And if that doesn't work…then…then I won't even need to go home! Not with an entire world under my command! I can reshape Narnia any way I want. I can make it like Mayharran…or better, even. I can do anything I want with it. It's perfect," she breathed. "Absolutely perfect. And they won't be able to do anything against me, not with my power, not with my army or my kingdom."

She stopped pacing then. "And when it's all done," she whispered. "Rilian and I will be married in the city itself, and then it will be my city officially, and he will truly be mine…as it was meant to be." She looked distant at that, not meeting Mullugutherum's eyes. "Our fates were entwined since the first day. There have only been difficulties since, but I will put an end to it once I have taken this world. He said once that he loved me. He will say it again. We will stand at the head of a recreated world and everything will be as it should have been in the first place." She sighed. "And then it will all have been worth it."

She didn't say anything for a moment, seeming to forget Mullugutherum was there at all. Then she looked back at him.

"Will you help me?"

He flinched. "Help…help you do what?"

"Create that,"

"H-how?"

She smiled slightly. "Damned if I know how I'm going to do that. But that's the eventual plan. I was planning on…your elders." She jerked her head in the general direction of the door. "I could kill them, I suppose, and that would get them out of the way…problem solved…it seems to have worked before. But that wouldn't be solved, you see, because then I still wouldn't be able to get back to the surface. Your elders hold such sway over Bism. If I found out why, or if I brought them under my command…"

"You mean with Virk's gem?" Mullugutherum said, and immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. It was surely the fear, he thought.

She looked at him sharply, all the dreamy and distant traces vanishing from her face. "Virk's gem, is it now?"

"I never said that!" Mullugutherum exclaimed wildly. "Never did! You never heard it from me!"

"Really now," her fingers drummed on the bedpost. "Who did I hear it from, then? If it was you, and you helped me do this, then perhaps…I could reward you…that is what they always do in the stories, do they not? Reward their helpers. Even the most vile enchanters, ones as dark as Traefanden himself,"

Mullugutherum's eyes darted about. Rewards? He was a thief. Thieves aren't rewarded unless they get away with it, and he in no way ever got away with anything. He was only Mullugutherum.

But what was there to lose? He was going to be exiled anyway…

"That's what I stole," he whispered, so afraid to say anything out loud, afraid it would bring the elders running to this prison in an instant. But when no one opened the door, he continued, feeling slightly braver. After all, there was nothing he could say that would change his sentence, no matter how bad it may be. "I stole Thark's half of the jewels. There's two of them, see, one for each elder. And you always see them with it and it is so important…and…I wanted to see. I wanted to know what it was like to hold it. To be an elder. And…and…" a dreamy, far off look momentarily crossed Mullugutherum's face, but he wasn't one to entertain deep thoughts for long and it slipped away again. "So I had it. So I had Bism," he whispered fearfully. "They caught me because I was too…because I…didn't know what to do with it once I had it. I dropped it and ran but I wasn't fast enough."

"That's all you did?"

"Yes. But no one steals here, not ever!"

"Still…"

"Well, I did. And I shouldn't have done that. But I did and now they're going to throw me back for going back and telling them! And…and…"

"What do these jewels do, then?" she interrupted.

Mullugutherum unconsciously touched the place on his shirt at the hollow of his neck. "Their jewels," he whispered. "Both the elders have them. That's why they can go to the shallow lands and come back…the jewels open and close the way into Bism. And it's in all of us." He dropped his voice so low she had to strain to hear. "We're born here and we die here. The gems here grow, they live, they sustain us. The jewels they wear are some of the very first…the first living jewels ever to grow here after it was closed from the overworld. We all know when they wear them. We all feel it. We all see it and hear it."

"It's what binds you, isn't it?" she stood up from where she was. "That connection between you and the elders' jewels. What allows them to keep order over all of you, to keep their natural authority…yes? Am I right?"

"I guess," Mullugutherum wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but he knew that the elders had the ultimate authority and their jewels were the sign of it. No one else wore them. Even his brief moment holding them terrified him to no end and he'd never dream of doing it again.

"Perfect," she said again. "Absolutely perfect. I can't think of anything better."

"Better…what's better?"

"Listen," she said, and her voice took on a serious tone. "Listen to me. If I tell you what my plan is, will you agree to help me?"

"What's in it for me?" It was the first time in Mullugutherum's life he spoke up, the first time he ever showed his true concern for himself above everything else.

"You won't be exiled," she said. "And when I finish, you'll be my second in command, you will stand next to me as assistant to the queen. No one will stop you from stealing anything, no one will give you such preposterous unfair punishments. If you join with me…"

Power.

Mullugutherum licked his lips in anticipation. It wasn't something that was offered to a condemned thief. Someone as low as him could never hope to achieve anything lower than the shallow lands.

"Then…then fine," he said finally. "I'll…well…I'll help you."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon the next day when Elder Virk came for them. His face was unreadable as he read their sentence again and then turned around, indicating for the guards to lead them to the elder's house.

Mullugutherum's confidence the day before had evaporated the moment he saw the elder again. It's one thing to think yourself lower when you're alone, but another thing when in face of the elders. The overworlder didn't waver…she nodded to him and then followed the elder out, holding her head high and confident as she left. Mullugutherum wasn't so quick to follow her, but…he knew the plan. She told him the plan. Now all he had to do was not back out and be too afraid to act on it.

She promised that it would work.

He had to believe that.

Elder Virk kept glancing back as he led the two prisoners down to the council building. A twisting path led down from the prison, around a thick grove of sapphire trees, and then finally down to what looked like a long, flat building at the very bottom. It was the only thing around as well as the lowest, the only thing lower was the salamanders, and the path that led to them was glowing brightly with living diamonds that pointed the way.

"Well, go inside," snapped Virk. "We'd like to get this over with."

She glared at the elder, who seemed not to notice. Mullugutherum bowed his head and entered, trying to stand as tall as possible to show his lack of status. The overworlder was doing that too, looking tall. But when he stood tall it showed his submission…when she did it, it seemed more an act of defiance.

The ceiling was low. Elder Thanagel was already sitting on the floor, dressed all out in his deep blue judges' robes, same as Virk. The council stood in a circle around them, each holding a thin, papery scroll that read the sentence of the accused. The light was dimmer here than outside, and one had to squint to see them.

"Where is it?" the overworlder hissed to Mullugutherum.

He flicked his eyes to the back of the room. There was a low fireplace there that no one used. The only time it was ever lit was if they wanted to talk directly to the salamanders. She looked and then nodded.

"Let's get this done with," Virk said gruffly as he sat with Thanagel, taking the papers and shuffling them. "We don't want to be here longer than necessary, do we?"

"Certainly not," agreed Thanagel, and the rest of the council piped in with their respective agreements. "First order, the sentence of the thief Mullugutherum. Thief, come forward."

He didn't want to, but did nonetheless. The elders read his crime, their voices as one, monotone and terrible as they proclaimed the long list of Mullugutherum's crimes against Bism. Then they read his sentence, his permanent exile, all in that same flat voice. They had no pity for him. Of course they wouldn't. Bism elders didn't like rulebreakers. There were so many rules to follow and so many things to be kept a certain way that they had to have no tolerance.

"Stand aside, thief," Thanagel said. "Your sentence will be carried out shortly. Overworlder, come forward."

Mullugutherum watched as she stepped up to the chairs where the two elders sat.

"Very well," she said. "Give me my sentence."

The elders exchanged a brief glance, then shrugged. Virk was the one that read off her list of crimes. It was shorter than Mullugutherum's, but more terrible. Thanagel didn't say a word this whole time, only watched her closely.

"And your sentence," Virk said, his voice hard and unwavering. "To have your memory erased, and then to live the rest of your natural life in the cavern of the sleepers." He stood up. "Elder Thanagel, shall we commence this together?"

"Of course, Elder Virk," Thanagel replied, rising as well. "Be still, overworlder, we can't do this if you…"

"Now, Mullugutherum!" she shouted, whirling around and pointing at him.

This was his hour. This was his moment.

Mullugutherum threw himself against one of the guards, sending them both crashing to the floor. The guard yelled in protest, thrashing and waving about his spear. The other tried to grab Mullugutherum, but he was too nimble and managed to untangle himself from the first guard and dodge the second one. He landed hard in front of the fireplace, scraping his chin and his arm painfully. Light it! That's what she said. Light the fire now! Worry about injuries later!

A guard lunged forward and blindly stabbed with his spear. It caught Mullugutherum on the leg with the wood end of it. Mullugutherum kicked and felt his foot connect with the other guard's shin.

"Light it now!" the overworlder shrieked. "I said now!"

Her voice made him scramble to his feet, despite the fact that his leg could barely support him. It was throbbing horribly. Where was the lighter? There, there!

He snatched the lighter, an odd stick of wood with a softly glimmering ruby on the end. He struck the end of it and then threw it in the fire. All at once he heard the guard's yelling, the elder's voices, and the fire roared to life. It crackled in his face, throwing such heat that he normally didn't feel even in this bright land.

Finally one of the guards came to his senses and grabbed Mullugutherum's arm, stabbing downward with a spear. The spear went into his leg and Mullugutherum screamed in pain, falling to the ground. The guard fell with him, and Mullugutherum hit his head, feeling about to black out from the pain.

"There," he said dizzily. "There, I did it, there…"

It had to be done at just the right moment. Too soon, and the whole thing would be thrown out of line. Too late, and it wouldn't work at all.

Sara waited until the very moment Mullugutherum fell. Half the guards were trying to get away from him, half of them scrambling away from the fire. She heard the elders screaming out orders behind her, but no one was following them right now. The fire startled them too much. She knew that, after all that Mullugutherum said. They'd never expect it. Fire was only lit when they spoke with the salamanders. Any other time it was forbidden, as fire was considered belonging only to the salamanders and anyone else was too high to use it. She knew it would startle them and bewilder them if anyone else dared start a fire without permission.

The elders didn't even notice her when she broke free of the guards and darted back to the fire. She had once chance, and if she lost it, she'd be lost forever. She reached for her enchantment powder and took a large handful, half of it spilling out onto the floor. But it was enough.

She threw it into the fire and called out the words.

The fire blazed bright green. It flared momentarily through the fireplace and up the flue, and then immediately receded, and the burning gave way to a thick, heady, sweet smell. The smell quickly flowed through the whole room, the low ceiling and small area not giving enough space of ventilation for it to disperse. Sara stood in front of the fire, breathing heavily, the scent not affecting her in the least.

The guards slowly stopped moving. Instead they only looked around at each other, then down, and then gradually they sat on the floor, spears falling listlessly from their hands, eyelids drooping in the sweet, drowsy odor. Mullugutherum was out entirely, the spear in his leg causing him to pass out from the pain. She'd have to fix that later.

Sara looked back at the elders. The two most powerful people in Bism were sitting there, barely awake. Their heads were falling forward onto their chests, breathing softly. She could see them struggling to fight it, but the smell was too thick and drowsy for them to fight.

She stood there, one hand resting above the fireplace, for a moment deeply shocked at her own boldness at doing this.

Absolutely perfect.

"Elder Thanagel," she said. His head came up and his eyes opened, but there was nothing in them. His eyes were blank and glazed and ever so slightly unfocused. Even better…the enchantment had taken hold sooner than she had expected. It took immediately on animals, but in terms of true sentient beings…she had never tried it out. In school she was always told not to. More enchantress ethics.

But she was an evil enchantress. They had no ethics. They had no worries. Though for a moment still she didn't like it, staring at the unnatural glaze in the elder's eyes. She'd never done that before. Enchanting horses to calm them down was simple enough. This went far beyond it, using one's power to ensnare someone's mind and make them do what you wanted.

Well, there would be time for worrying about that _later. _

"Elder Virk,"

He raised his head as well, the expression the same.

She held a hand out. "Elder Virk, give me your jewel,"

"I don't…want to," he said, his voice vague and muffled. "Don't want to give it away. 'S mine."

"Oh, I know it is yours," she said softly, speaking in the sweetest voice she could muster. "But it is ever so lovely. I would so like to see it."

"Want to see it?" Virk took the necklace off and held it up, the jewel sparkling brilliantly, refracting light around the room.

"I certainly do," she nodded. "Why don't you bring it over to me?"

"Okay," Virk walked slowly over, shuffling his feet in the thick carpet. "But you'll give it back?"

"In time, of course. Here, just…only a minute…so I may admire its beauty."

Virk uncurled his fingers and dropped the necklace and the jewel into her waiting hand.

"Thank you, Virk," she smiled. "How wonderful of you to be so willing to oblige me like this. It is so touching. Here, I thought all Bism folk were such terrible barbarians,"

"Not all barbarians, ma'am," Virk mumbled. "That's only overworld. They're all savages."

"Not all overworlders are savages. Though granted, more than we think may be. Now, go back and sit with Thanagel, will you?"

"Should I?"

"Of course. You want to."

Virk nodded vaguely and walked back over, sitting down and looking confused.

"Elder Thanagel,"

He jerked in response and stood slowly, responding to her voice.

"Come here,"

He walked over faster than Virk did.

"Now, Thanagel. You've traveled a lot, haven't you? You've found your way to that cavern and back. Tell me, are there any ways to get back to the overworld?"

Thanagel nodded.

"How many ways?"

"There are a lot," he said. "But they're all long and not easy to find."

"Would you be able to find them for me?"

"Of course!" Thanagel nodded vigorously. "I will show you all of them! There's a lot. There's one near the prison because it's so high, and another in the farming district, and another…"

"That will be all for now. You may tell me this later, and I will be pleased. Now, you have a jewel as well…I want to see it. You want to give it to me, yes?"

"I don't…it's…it's mine. It's been mine for a long time now. I don't want anyone else to have it!" His head came up and he looked very agitated for a moment, twisting his fingers together and pulling on one of the rings on his finger. "Why do you want it?"

"I'd just like to see it, elder," she said. "Only a moment."

"No! I don't want to give it to you!"

"Why not?"

"Because…I've had it…for years. It's mine."

He had been elder for awhile, Mullugutherum had said. Sara had to think of something else…he was too attached to the damn jewel. What could she do to change his mind? She had to be persuasive. Enchantment could only get so far. It was what one did during the enchantment that determined if it worked or not.

"Certainly it is yours. An elder such as yourself would only have something that magnificent. But…but you are such an elder that I am sure your leadership surpasses something as insignificant as one jewel."

"It does?"

"Oh yes," she nodded. "I'm sure you would be just as wise and respected without it. Even more so, because it would mean that you are strong enough to rule without it."

Thanagel blinked. "Really?"

"Of course. Would I ever lie to you?"

"Overworlders, yes, they always lie…"

"But I wouldn't. Have I ever lied to you?"

"I…don't think so…"

"Then trust me,"

Thanagel's eyes slid out of focus. He took several deep shaky breaths, and that in consequence brought the enchantment even further into his lungs. His eyelids flickered.

"Just let me see it,"

"Let…you see it…"

"For a moment…"

"For a moment…" Thanagel echoed.

Thanagel dropped the second jewel into her palm.

"Thank you, Thanagel. You may go back with Virk now."

Thanagel skittered back and sat down next to the other elder. She watched them and made sure none of them moved, then walked over to the fire where Mullugutherum was unconscious. He certainly proved his worth. He may be a groveling terrified fool half the time, but when it got down to it…he proved useful, and fairly loyal at that. She didn't think he would actually fight the guards to start the fire for her. He deserved fair good treatment for that. She wouldn't be one of those evil enchanters who treated those loyal to her horribly.

"Mullugutherum," she said, kneeling in front of him and putting a hand on his forehead. Was he enchanted? Most likely, everyone in this room was. It was strongest here. The rest of Bism wasn't yet…but…she knew how to take care of that. At least she hoped she did from what she was told…she was still new to this whole evil enchantress thing and was rather hoping she was getting it right.

He was completely unconscious. The pain, no doubt, and the shock of doing something so defiant had done that to him. He wasn't the type to go against his elders' words. But from what she was told, no one in Bism was.

"Mullugutherum, wake up,"

His eyes opened. They were glazed and unfocused…damn it. She hadn't intended to enchant him as well. But it was inevitable in this room. She'd have to stop it. She pressed a hand on his forehead and then on each of his eyes, drawing her fingers away slowly and taking the spell with it.

Mullugutherum opened his eyes with a barely controlled scream and rolled over. Gods curse it! She should have healed him first, she realized too late. Now he was in his right mind and conscious of the pain.

"Stop moving!" she snapped. "And let me fix this,"

He tried his hardest, but kept whimpering and twitching in pain. She took out her healing powder and threw it over his leg and said the words, slowly, willing the flesh and bone to knit back together. It did, quicker than usual, and he slumped in relief.

"You're going to fall asleep soon," she said. "That's only an after affect of the healing. I had to draw on your own natural resources as well as mine in order to speed it along. Just disregard that. Have you hit your head?"

"A little," he said. She checked that as well, but it was nothing as bad as the leg was. "What's…elders?" he looked past her at the elders, sitting in their seats and not looking at anything in particular. "What did you do to them?"

"What I said I was going to do," Sara replied with a smile. "They're enchanted now. They'll do anything I say. Even…this." She held out her hand and dangled the two jewels from it.

Mullugutherum gasped, seeing the jewels in this odd light, being held by a strange overworlder like this.

"They gave that to you?"

"Oh, of course," she said. "I asked them to." She looked back over at the enchanted elders. "They'll do anything I ask them to. And once I finish…all of Bism will do likewise."

"Why don't I do it?"

"I took the enchantment off of you. A moment ago you were just like them." The enchanted council gave a few small snuffles and shifts, but otherwise didn't move from their dreamlike position. "Maybe it's the air of this place, or the atmosphere…enchantment is terribly easy here. Back at…in overland…I had to work at it. It would take a minute and it wouldn't last, nor would it be this deep. Maybe it's the way you earthmen are…I should do a study on that," she said half to herself. "To see if perhaps it's something biological that allows an enchantment to be taken on so quickly. But I'll have time to do that! First…I must finish this,"

"Finish what? Didn't you just want…want the elders?"

She laughed. It was a pretty sound, light and melodious, not the sort of laugh one would expect out of a mad overworlder about to do gods only knew what.

"The elders! Not just them. I wanted them, and now they gave me this. Now I will have all of Bism. And you will build my kingdom for me. Now, step aside."

He obeyed.

Sara knelt in front of the fire. It was still cracking green, the flames still giving off the thick, heady smell of enchantment. The flames belonged entirely to her, her magic running through it and filling the room.

She placed both the jewels in her palm and looked at them. They were glimmering in the light, seeming to take the light into themselves and reflect it back out in a myriad of patterns.

"What will happen if I put these in the fire?" she asked absently, not expecting an answer. Mullugutherum didn't know, it had never been tried. No one ever fooled with the jewels. "Then I'll try it,"

Part of Mullugutherum wanted to protest. This was going against all natural laws. But it was too late…

Sara took both the jewels and threw them into the fire

The response was immediate. The fire didn't roar but seemed to sink inward, to implode in on itself in the direction of the jewels. It wrapped around the twin gems, the flames licking its surface and almost melting into the jewels themselves. The jewels remained the same…they didn't melt, they only glowed softer and brighter in the fire light. They glowed brighter and then the fire vanished altogether, the last of the embers winking out and disappearing into darkness. All that remained was the two gems, glowing a now unnatural green light.

Sara reached into the fire and took the jewels, hesitating a moment to see if they were going to burn her hand, but they didn't. They were only warm to the touch and still glowing that odd color, the same color as her fire, the color of enchantment.

"What did that do?"

"It takes fire," Mullugutherum whispered. "It always does that. It comes from the land of the salamanders, it was one of the first gems ever to grow there. I've seen it do that before. Thark used it once to put a fire in the higher regions out. It was a terrible fire, and it was too high, they had to get rid of it. He threw it there, and it put the fire out."

"How marvelous," the jewels were still dangling at the end of their chains. Sara held them up and stared, the green light refracting out of the jewels and onto the room. She didn't see it at the time, but the eyes of the two elders followed their every move. Even Mullugutherum subconsciously leaned over, trying to peer over her shoulder at the jewels.

She took them and placed them around her neck, just as she had seen the elders do.

_Isn't that lovely? _

_I thought I took those muffins out of the oven this morning._

_Has anyone seen my hat?_

_Look out! You're going to step in it!_

And then there was a bright, hot smell, sharp and stunning and almost overpowering. She opened her eyes with a gasp and staggered backwards, the voices…only soft whispering, hardly voices at all…but the thoughts of hundreds of thousands of earthmen in her mind, all around her. And the smell was almost too much, it was startling and made her want to sneeze violently and cough until the fire was gone and the light would cease. And the light was bright, too bright…she shielded her eyes but that did nothing. Mullugutherum was bright too, and so were the elders, and they were staring at her with this odd look of dull reverence. Mullugutherum collapsed then, falling on his knees in front of her, gibbering madly to stop it, stop it, what are you doing!

Sara took off the jewels and threw them on the floor. They clattered to the ground and rolled to a stop, and then there was only silence.

"Gods," she whispered, breathing heavily. "What was that?"

"Living Bism," Mullugutherum's voice was cracked. "I told you the stones held the elders to living Bism. It's all of us. Not our hearts or minds, just…just us. What makes us Bism gnomes. It links the elders to us. That's why they have that…I told you, I told you, you don't know how to use it!" he clamped his hands over his ears.

Sara picked the jewels up again and jiggled them about in her hand. That was the living Bism that Mullugutherum had mentioned. It was too much for her. She had never seen anything like that before. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was fooling with magic she didn't know a thing about, and she still wasn't entirely sure what evil enchantresses _did _and ought to probably think on that more and try again when she got a better handle on the whole concept. The ones in the stories, really, they had it a lot easier because people there automatically bowed down in terror, not just gave them funny looks and shrugged and muttered things about insanity. Oh, and they also had plans, those ones. Really good plans, not ones made up on the spur of the moment in prison. Maybe she ought to leave and come back when she actually _knew _what she was supposed to do…

No! If she left it now, then…Bism was the only way that she could build her kingdom. _That _was something she was sure she had to do. She couldn't do it herself, but with the entire of Bism behind her she could do it. And…minions, right? Evil enchanters _always _had minions. That was just the way of things.

Frustrated, she put the jewels back on. She was an evil enchantress and a talented one at that. She and Hylaea were going to go to university together and study to be great enchantresses together. What would Hylaea say if Sara gave up at this point and threw aside these jewels simply because she "couldn't handle it"?

Well, Hylaea wouldn't, because she had no doubt her friend would not be pleased to know her best friend had decided to become an evil enchantress at all.

But had Hylaea not minded, she would insist Sara try again, just like at their mandolin practice sessions all those years ago.

Ignoring Mullugutherum's protests, she put the jewels back on.

Again all at once she was assailed by the vaguest hints of voices in her mind, the myriad of spattered thoughts from all over Bism, lingering only for a moment and then disappearing again into the darkness. And the smell returned, just as sharp as ever, bright, hot, and brilliant. If the fire could have a smell, if the very light itself could take on a scent…a living scent…then this was it. It was piercing and restless, and it made her pace the floor back and forth in restless anxiety, not quite knowing why. She kicked aside a chair and then a table and kept walking, around the room, and around, the sharp scent making her want to do…oh, she didn't know! Something, she wanted to do something! And the voices still lingered, and the fire roared up back into the fireplace, alive from the few embers left in it. Mullugutherum fell back onto the floor and now the elders did too. The elders were shaking uncontrollably and Mullugutherum was begging again, praying desperately for her to stop, but she didn't know what she was doing…

She sat down purposely in a chair and didn't move. She sat perfectly still and folded her hands tight in her lap, and closed her eyes. She would focus on what she was doing, pick it apart, until she could handle it. It was like doing anything that was complicated…you had to sit down and think about it and take it a little at a time until it made sense.

First was the light. That was part of Bism, that was the light from the bottom of the world. She felt it, and it was hot and bright and present. It was what made Bism what it was and what made the people live in it so prosperously. They were tied to that light. It gave them life and happiness, it was in their very blood and soul. Without that light they would be…they would have half their lives, alive enough to exist but hardly anything else. Without it they would barely think or feel at all. She focused on that light and held it, keeping its awareness at the front of her mind. It drove out all the unnecessary thoughts of the people and all the mutterings and things happening. Then she ignored it entirely and focused completely on that light…and there it was, right in front of her awareness, shining at the ready. Was this what the elders saw all the time? It was warm and soft, comforting and sharp all at once, and undeniably beautiful. This was all that made Bism what it was, that strange deep land of rivers of fire and living gems growing in the hot soil. There was life in that light…not death, never death. Death was another part, that was the silence before and after the light, that part she couldn't touch. None of the elders could.

But the light was hers. It belonged to the elders, and all those before them who wore this. It maintained order. It held the balance of things. It breathed life and sustained all those who lived in it, who were born from it, who existed in this bright underground world.

"Stop," she said out loud, holding the light in the forefront of her mind, feeling the weight of the jewels around her neck.

They stopped.

There wasn't a sound.

She opened her eyes. Mullugutherum wasn't moving, and neither were the two elders. They all froze in whatever position they were in, not even batting an eyelid. It went beyond enchantment…it was…the light. She controlled the light. She controlled living Bism.

"Mullugutherum, come to me."

He was looking confused, but he stood up and walked to her.

"Mullugutherum, open your eyes. Think. Know. Be aware."

His eyes cleared and then widened, looking frantically around him. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Elder Virk, Elder Thanagel. Stand up. Come to me."

They obeyed.

"To your knees."

They dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

She ran a finger over the gems around her neck, feeling still slightly dizzy. The gems that were tied to all living Bism had taken on her enchantment.

"Come with me, elders. Follow me outside." She strode out the door, Mullugutherum walking quickly to keep up with her, and the elders following. Outside…outside, this was the second lowest point in Bism. It was the seat of the elders and their power. If this worked…

She clutched the gems tight in her hand, feeling their warmth. These were truly living gems, as she was told. Was this what evil enchanters did? It seemed correct.

"People of Bism…"

She felt a hundred thoughts crashing down on her mind at almost the same time. There were so many people in Bism, so many gnomes, so many thoughts…it was dizzying and vast. She closed her eyes again. Just like the light, it was overpowering…threatening to take her own thoughts with it as well and sweep it all away in the world that was living Bism. It would take her awareness with it, and it would serve her right, for trying to steal so much power.

But no. She would control it.

Slowly, she picked apart each of the thoughts like she did the light…separating them into individual…strands, yes, strands. If Aresia could weave her tapestry the way she did, she had to keep track of everything in it. Multitasking. Well, Sara could do the same thing, couldn't she? She focused hard, separating them all until it was completely individual…and then she put it to the back of her mind, the same place where the light was. The light and those threads intertwined almost immediately, glad to be back together. Now the true light was joined with the lives of the people.

Now it was perfect.

Sara opened her eyes. Mullugutherum was still standing there, and he was looking afraid. No, that mattered little to her. Let him be afraid. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that people were _supposed _to be afraid of evil enchanters.

Her hand fell away from the jewels. She could feel the power of the light coursing through her, igniting every nerve in her body. She raised her hands above her head.

"People of Bism, come to me."

And they did. Hundreds of thousands of them, setting aside everything they were doing…mothers dropped their cooking, children stopped playing, workers put down whatever they were doing, and they came. All of them, walking steadily towards the elders' house, until they were all standing at the lip of the cavern that led down into the house. They all stood there, unmoving, their faces blank and somber, held in the grip of something they could barely understand.

Sara saw them all standing there before her. She reached back to see their thoughts and there were no thoughts. The jewels were tied to the light and had taken her enchantment. The people of Bism were tied to the light. As long as she held the enchanted jewels, she controlled the entirety of Bism. Every living thing in this world was hers. Their minds were hers, their thoughts, their power…they belonged to her.

"People of Bism," she repeated, her voice soft. "People of Bism, kneel before me!" her voice rose in intensity, and at the same time, every single person in Bism went down on their knees, even Mullugutherum.

They obeyed her. Every single one of them. Hundreds of thousands of people, doing nothing but her bidding, nothing but what she put into their heads…

It was dizzying and intoxicating and unbelievable. All those lives belonged to her.

"Here are your elders," she said, her voice suddenly loud and clear, ringing across the underland. "Virk, Thanagel, stand and come here."

The two elders obeyed, walking over to her and standing as high as they could.

"Give me your spear."

Virk handed her the spear. She ran a hand lovingly down it, admiring the polished, shining silver, made by years of different elders, each adding their own bit of history to the staff. Then in one swift motion, she snapped the spear over her leg and threw the two pieces down at the floor.

"There stand your elders now," she said. "Without their spears, they are nothing. Without their jewels…" she held them up, still around her neck. "They are nothing. They are only people, just like the rest of you. They are just as easily subjugated as the rest of you. They bend to my power just as soon as anyone. Thanagel, Virk, you are no longer elders of Bism. Let those titles fall from you and be as easily destroyed as I have done away with this spear. Never again…" she pointed with one hand to the people. "Never again will you call them elder. Henceforth, Bism will have no elders. Is that understood?"

"Understood,"

It was the entirety of Bism that said that. It was a hundred thousand voices at the same time, rumbling across the vast, bright world. It was voices echoing her words, echoing her thoughts, doing what she bid them to. She looked at the jewels, her eyes wide, her breath coming fast, every nerve in her body alight with this strange intoxication.

"Henceforth," she said. "You will address me and only me as your only elder. Nay…your queen." She smiled then, a wide and terrible smile. Her cheeks were flushed and she felt exhilarated, more than ever before in her life. These people were hers. If she was to build a kingdom, she would begin here. Bism would be hers. She would be their queen. Queen of…not Bism, that was hardly terrifying. She needed something true, something that would strike fear into the hearts of the people of Narnia when they would hear it. She was an evil enchantress…they would fear her as such.

"Henceforth you will address me as Your Majesty, the Queen of Underland."

"Your Majesty," the voices responded. And a hundred thousand people bowed further, pressing their foreheads on the ground before her, all across Bism. She couldn't see all of them but she could feel them, each one of them, giving obeisance to her. It was a strange feeling, euphoric and rapturous. It was beautiful, it was more intense than anything she had felt in her life…

Power!

Power to control an entire world. Power over more people than she could imagine, each one willing to do whatever she asked as soon as she told them to. Power to create a kingdom…to take nothing, and make something out of it. Power to create a world all her own, a world that she could shape and form to the way she saw it. Suddenly…what did Tahalset matter? They were their own world, her old world, a place that had forgotten her and moved on. She could make a world grander than that. She could take the buildings of Mayharran and make something more, with grand, towering spires, with beautiful carved reliefs, perfectly cut stone reaching from…from…

Her mind went to the place she had set for her kingdom. It was that blank place, between Bism and the ruins of Harfang. She had walked through it on her way here. There was nothing there but stone and dirt…it was a blank canvas, the ideal place to set a kingdom, miles below the surface. Narnia would never think of it. They'd never look, they'd never imagine an entire world existing far below the surface. She'd take that nothing and build something out of it. Her own world. She would make it so that she was remembered, her name etched forever on this rock. Sara. Queen of Underland. Narnia would never forget that, their king and queen wouldn't when she stood at the head of her army and watched them as they begged for mercy.

But she'd have to create it first.

And she would.

And she could, with all this power, more than she could fathom. She trembled with the idea, with the sheer magnitude of this. She would create. It was what every healer wanted to do…create. Bring life. Her own life, her own world. Then she would break Narnia once her world was complete. Narnia would bow down to her and she would open it, make it a real open world. And maybe she would go back to Mayharran, if she cared to. Or she could make Mayharran part of her own world. For there was no end…never any end…to what she could do. Not with this power. Power to create, to destroy…and if she dared, to capture the mind and heart once again of the only person in this accursed world she'd ever loved.

It was intoxicating and addicting. It was hers, and no one in the world could take this from her.

"Come now, people of Bism," she ordered quietly, but even though she was quiet the entirety of Bism heard her. "Today we will leave this place. You will show me out of Bism and we will go to what you call the Shallow Lands…and there, you will build for me. You will create me a kingdom, the greatest kingdom the world has ever known. You will create for me a world."

"We will create for you a world."

"But what of Bism?" whispered Mullugutherum beside her.

She looked at him sharply, half angry that he brought her focus out of that blissfully enthralling state of power and back to the reality.

"What about it?"

"We belong to it."

She laughed. "You belong to Bism? You truly think you do?"

"Yes…"

"No…no you don't. You don't belong…" she turned back to the people. "You don't belong to Bism anymore! You belong to me!"

"We belong to you!"

Mullugutherum shrank back. "We…"

"Silence, Mullugutherum!" she ordered. "Listen to me, my people. There are no more elders."

"There are no more elders," the people replied.

"There is only me, your queen."

"You are our only leader, our queen."

"There is no Bism."

Mullugutherum shivered at her words.

"There is no Bism," replied the people, and even Mullugutherum found himself half whispering the words along with them.

Sara stood there, nearly drunk with her own power, laughing madly, arms outstretched in this bright land. "There was never any Bism!"

"There was never any Bism."

Grinning, her hair falling around her shoulders, she raised her arms higher. The jewels lay against her neck, glowing the horrible bright green of enchantment, ten times as bright in this land as it would be in any other place. They were hers. This kingdom would be hers. And eventually Narnia would be hers, she would take Narnia and eventually shape it her own way, reforming the land the way she wanted to. Soon there would be nothing else but what she made.

"There was never any world but mine,"

"There was never any world but yours," a hundred thousand voices repeated.


	21. Chapter 21

((Hey chaps...sorry for...well, forgetting about this for a time. I pretty much got sick with everything and its mom...mono, panic disorder, asthma attacks, and had to get a root canal Thursday. At this rate, I half expect to walk to the store tomorrow and have someone drop a piano on my head or something. Anyway, because you guys are awesome (and I really don't like this chapter very much), you guys get two chapters today. Hooray!

And now that we're talking about awesome, can I just say how amazing you guys are? Your reviews absolutely boggled my mind and left me quite stunned! You guys are fantastic, let me tell you that. Absolutely amazing. So enjoy the story, I am thrilled you like it!))

The Warden kept his eyes on the floor. "It's the port," he mumbled. "It's not holding. It keeps falling into the sea. The ground needs to be reinforced."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, your majesty. If it's not reinforced, then the port will keep collapsing."

Sara sat back in her throne, allowing one hand to thoughtfully caress the head of one of the two stone snakes that were carved into the armrest of her throne and reached up to join together at the head. Srinia was a benevolent snake, the goddess of her homeland that shone in the night sky and was gracious with knowledge to those born under her. It was always said those with the snake as their starform were more intelligent than the rest, given to more unique ideas. The best people to have by your side in a fight were snakes and cheetahs, and Hylaea had always been amused at that, as the cheetah was her own starform. "We can stand together and take down the entire school," Hylaea had said. "Being good in battle and all. And fights." She had nodded sagely, and she and Sara thought it was the most entertaining idea, for what student didn't at least once in their life think of destroying the school they had to go to?

Srinia was knowledge, and knowledge was power. Sara had ignored her starform for too long, being that the people of Narnia knew very little…no, absolutely nothing…about shapeshifting, and as a result she had almost forgotten about it herself. It was a part of her, just like anything else was, and to ignore it was foolish. Well, as queen of Underland, she couldn't afford to ignore anything. Anything she could do that the rest of the world couldn't was useful, even if her starform was only a benevolent green snake that glimmered in the night sky of her homeworld.

The people of Underland didn't seem to think so. It made them all nervous. Snakes, they reasoned, were lying creatures of the overworld. They spread deceit. Sara didn't know what sort of foolishness made them think so…snakes at home were signs of intelligence, not deceit, and signs of honor, not lies, and signs of determination, not treachery.

She did away with those beliefs straightaway. Now they who once feared snakes carved the images of Srinia upon her throne, carved vast reliefs at the highest reaches of Underland of the ancient snake goddess with her head up, watching over the Underland, with Yarrin at his side, wings outstretched. The reliefs were beautiful. There were none like that at home that anyone created anymore. And the people of Bism no longer feared the snake. If she didn't, neither would they, and so it was done.

"What needs to be done in order to reinforce this?" Sara asked as patiently as she could, though by this point her patience was wearing thin. It should not be this hard, she reasoned, to create a kingdom! And for the most part it wasn't, not with hundreds of thousands of gnomes working around the clock, resting only when they were so exhausted they couldn't continue. They mined, sculpted, and built, and every say Sara would look outside her window and see them working. Her castle was the first thing they built, for every true ruler had to have one. It was a monument of architecture, her castle. She helped carve out the space for it, expanding the Underland so that it reached towards the surface of the world. Her castle was the highest thing in the area, the seat of all power, however much against the regular lives of the gnomes that was. And it was enormous and reached towards where the sky would be, if there was a sky in Underland. The stone was dark, and around the entrance she had carved her name in the old language of Tahalset, the hieroglyphs that every student at home had to learn and hated. The castle had to be vast…greatness like that was intimidating. So it was, made out of dark stone and seemingly growing out of the bottom of the world itself. There were more rooms than she could count, more towers and spirals, as grand as anything that could come out of one's imagination.

The rest of Underland was slowly becoming like that…very slowly. It had been two and a half years and it still wasn't completed. She needed it to be done, damn it! But there was only so much she could do to hurry it along.

It was getting very frustrating of late. The port at the shore of the Sunless Sea still wasn't holding, no matter how often she had it built and rebuilt.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, feeling the beginnings of a headache at the front of her forehead. Maybe she should leave Mullugutherum in charge for a bit and take some time back to Harfang. Gods only knew she needed it, and the giants never objected to her visit.

She had felt bad about that for a bit, leaving Harfang. After she had taken over Underland, it was more than three months before she saw Harfang again. She realized it too late, feeling almost frantic at the time of how the giants had been faring in her absence. She took her numerous maps of all the paths to the surface that Thanagel had drawn up for her, and then ordered him to take her up through the easiest one. Unfortunately that was a mistake, as she had forgotten in her thrill at being on the surface again that Bism gnomes hated the surface more than anything else in the world. She stepped out into clear sunlight, feeling the cold wind of Ettinsmoor on her face and the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her eyes. She had staggered back, squinting furiously, her eyes watering and filled with sunspots. She had been underground so long…three and a half months…and her eyes weren't used to the light. It took her a good ten minutes before her eyes adjusted and she was able to open them and see Harfang once again. The tunnel had let out closer to the castle than the one she had originally fell down months ago. It was perfect.

It was wonderful to be outside again. The sun made everything stand out in clear sharpness, from the crags of the mountains behind Harfang to the castle itself, the windows shining in the sun. The air was crisp, not stale, and the light was true light from the sun, not the foxfire and lamps that she kept lit down in Underland. Both her kingdoms…and two places as different as night and day. Ah, too long she had been away from Harfang! She never imagined she could miss it, but there she was, looking almost longingly at the squat, homey shape of Harfang up on its tall crag. No doubt they had missed her terribly.

The giants had been beside themselves with worry, despite the fact that Janile had made numerous attempts to calm them down. The king and queen went back to ruling but everyone had still been lost, wandering around for a bit, not quite having a direction. When she had walked back into the halls, they had all been beside themselves in shock at her return. Immediately they began listing all the things they had done wrong, but she brushed it aside. After all, they had still kept things going despite her absence. She praised the king and queen for doing this, and Janile most of all. Janile ought to be queen, she mused to herself. Someday when she felt like it, she would find a way to do away with the current queen and have Janile sit on the throne herself. Janile kept things running better than any of them.

It had been nice to return. She had missed Harfang and her giants, however foolish they were. During that time she returned, Yarag and Talfa were mourned deeply, both Talfa's dead self and Yarag's living tomb, thousands of feet below the surface.

It was going to be difficult managing two kingdoms. She tried to explain this to Janile the best she could, and Janile listened with a surprising amount of understanding to Sara's plan, her building of Underland and eventual conquering of Narnia. After spending a reasonable amount of time there, Sara put the king and queen back in charge, with Janile as their chief advisor and Fanarg as a lesser one, ensuring that they would be able to maintain everything the way she wanted when she returned to Underland. They had agreed, and she left them again, this time secure in the knowledge that they would be fine without her. They could figure things out. They weren't as stupid as they led people to believe, and she knew it.

Thanagel had not been so lucky. By the time she returned to her kingdom in progress, Thanagel had retreated to the back of the room she had given him and wouldn't come out for anyone. His eyes were tightly closed and he only mumbled and shook his head, refusing to leave, talking constantly of the shallow lands and how he'd never, ever find Bism again.

She had been angry at him for mentioning Bism, but that anger didn't last long when she realized that she had been so grateful to be in sunlight again she had forgotten about Thanagel. That moment he had emerged and seen the sun of the surface had made a lasting imprint on his mind, one that drove him mad in a very short amount of time. She still had him, and he was still alive. She had locked him in one of the prisons she had built at the bottom of her castle. Why she needed prisons, she didn't know, doubting she would ever have prisoners that she would need to truly lock up. But every evil enchantress had prisons, so she figured she ought to go by that. She left Thanagel there until she could figure out what to do with him. It had been two years and she still hadn't figured anything out, still leaving the mad former elder locked up in her prison. Someday she would figure something out. Until then she would leave him there. Mullugutherum enjoyed it, walking past sometimes to peer through the bars at the insane elder and grin before moving about whatever business he was ordered on.

The power had gone to the former thief's head. Sara could see this, the way he strutted about in his armor and carried his three-pronged spear with pride. It annoyed her, but he was loyal, so she ignored it.

The former elder Virk she had made Warden of what she had deemed the Marches of Underland. It was a separate part of Underland, set aside for her own nefarious purposes. The Marches was where she would gather and begin to create her army. She ordered that section to be built up, full of barracks, spears, and weapons. That would take awhile to get off the ground, but it was already starting to look like something. She needed someone to guard it and watch it, as she could not be everywhere at the same time. She had taken Virk, remembering his gruff manner and the way the people respected and feared him when he was elder. Fitting him out with armor and his own spear, he looked every bit the part of a proper warden, a guard to watch over her army. It fit Virk, being warden, even though he was enchanted and his thoughts were never his own. He stood there dressed up and gruff, ordering the people around once she told him to. If one ignored the sad look on his face, the same look that every single enchanted Bism gnome had on their face, one could almost assume that he enjoyed this job and didn't mind at all what he was doing.

It took some time to learn how to balance two kingdoms. But two and a half years passed, and so she learned. It was her belief that anything could be learned with enough time to learn it.

Her kingdom still wasn't done. It would take some time before it was fully finished, and then once it was done she would have to begin the digging. That would be hard, and she still didn't know how to go about doing that. She needed more maps, that's what. Maps of Narnia, a better map of her Underland, maps of the two in relation to each other…if she was going to stage something as grand and preposterous as to dig underneath Narnia and surprise them with her army, she needed a lot more maps and a lot more planning before anything could begin.

"Your majesty?" Virk spoke up again.

"Yes? Sorry, I was distracted."

"If I interrupted you from your thoughts, your majesty, please accept my apology!"

She sighed. Virk only spoke when spoken to, but he still got annoying, too. All these enchanted people did at times, going about their business with the same solemn, sad faces. It was not natural for them to be enchanted, and even less natural for them to be what they considered this close to the surface.

"Accepted. Now, what is it?"

"It is the pier, your majesty, by the sea. It won't hold. I was wondering if…if…"

"Just say it, warden!"

"If you could perhaps look at it? Maybe you will know what to do when none of us will, your majesty. Grace us with your wisdom." And he dropped to his knees again and held his hands over his head, pressing the palms together in a praying position. This was the way people in Tahalset paid their respects to their rulers, and she made them adapt the same mannerisms.

"Very well," Sara rose from her throne. "I am not busy at the moment. Take me there immediately."

She followed the warden out of her castle and onto the streets that wove their way through her city still in progress. The streets were cobbled right now but soon she'd have them paved just like the streets at home. Soon the buildings would be completed…now only some were, and the rest were foundations and half built structures. This was going to take a lot longer than she expected. But when it was completed, it would be the most beautiful thing in all the worlds. It would be…the only world.

"The pier," Virk said, pointing. Indeed, the pier had fallen again. The water lapped against the shores and the sand was dark and grainy as she walked down the shore to stand where the water met the sand. There were bits of rock and mortar strewn across the beach and sticking out of the shallower parts of the sea. That was all that was left of the pier. All around her were earthmen, cringing away from their queen, afraid of how angry she would be at them. She never hurt them…no, she never could quite bring herself to do that. Evil enchantresses did all the time, she knew. They would take their anger out on their minions, throw things at them, punish them, kill them for no reason. But in the back of her mind she was still a healer. She could enchant them and force them to do her bidding, but they weren't physically harmed. She never did that to them. All they feared was her words. Plus, dead gnomes didn't solve any problems.

"What did you do this time?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at them. Normally she wouldn't care, but this was the third time they had to rebuild the pier. Was it that hard to get it right the first time? There wasn't enough time for mistakes! She had to create this kingdom, and couldn't do it if these damn gnomes kept doing everything wrong!

"I have the plans!" one of the gnomes said quickly, running forward and pressing the scroll with the plans on it into her hands. "They were Four's idea." The gnome pointed to Four, who was only a foot and a half tall with a single pointed horn jutting from his forehead. He used to be a member of the Bism council, as was apparent by his name of Four. They still used their old names, Sara thought absently. Well, there was no harm in calling him Four. There was no Bism council and no elders, there was only Sara's word, the only law that existed down here. But a name was a name, and Four clearly didn't remember his original name. Ah, well.

"Four, come here,"

Four broke away from the crowd and came to her. Her eyes ran over the plans, and she sighed. "These are yours? When did you come up with these?"

"Two days," Four almost exclaimed. "Just two! The last pier collapsed and you weren't happy. I wanted to make something better but you said make it fast so I came up with this and…and…" Four stammered. "And that's what I did, I thought, and, and I came up with that. It's not good though, isn't it? What's wrong with it?"

"It collapsed!" said the first gnome, glaring at Four. "It's no good! She's going be angry again!"

"Just be quiet for a minute." Sara ordered, holding her hand up, and they all fell silent. She traced the lines of the stones that were to build the base of the dock. "There it is. Four, your plans weren't entirely faulty. Considering you came up with it only two days ago, there is much to be praised. There is where your fault lies." She pointed to where the stone met the wood, and the wood they used was weak and easily broke, which unbalanced the stones and sent them and the wet dirt crumbling into the sea. Once she showed them the fault they were able to do the rest themselves, having a better knowledge of building things than she did.

She didn't intend to stay for the construction, but she ended up doing so anyway, watching until they had finished most of the pier, making sure the wood wasn't weak and the stones were packed enough into the dirt where it wouldn't slide. They were…now there was a proper pier at the shore of the Sunless Sea. There was still much construction to do…she couldn't end with a pier. She'd build on the pier and make it into a wharf, then an entire port. If there was a sea, there had to be a port.

It was so easy, she thought as she walked back to her castle. All she had to do was think of it, and it could come true. She could create anything that came to her mind.

She found her way back to her library. It was in her own section of the castle. She had built the castle large enough for several people, not knowing why, when she was surely to be the only one using it. Her section she had made the grandest, with the best sculpting and newest stones, and her rooms were large and elaborate, and the library especially so. It took trips to Harfang and back several times to make her rooms the way she wanted them to. There was a lot of unused furniture there, and of course the giants still made their cloth, and she managed to take that and use it to build her rooms here. All the more luxuriant items she brought here, figuring she would spend a lot more time here than at Harfang. And eventually she wouldn't be in either world, instead…eventually residing in the great castle of Cair Paravel in Narnia. There, she wouldn't need any of her created luxuries. It would all be there for her already.

Most of the books in Harfang she brought to her library down here…at least the ones she could read. She left all the ones in the archaic language back there and brought the rest here, again by the same logic. The library, which she made the biggest of all rooms and the most purposeful, would also be the seat of her battle plans. She had several rough sketches thrown in the corner already near the fireplace. She had started to make them before she realized she knew absolutely nothing about military design and threw them in the corner, figuring they were more than useless. She needed to learn about battles and actual military workings before devising battle plans of her own. "Dig to the surface and then attack" certainly wasn't going to do well. She needed more.

The last time she had been at Harfang, she requested a history book for the extra price of several rare herbs that she found and sent back. She needed one, figuring if she could learn about ruling from Harfang's history, she could learn about…oh, whatever else she needed to know…from Narnian history. Everything happened in history, she figured.

Thankfully they had not asked why. They had sent her the book and she kept it here. Today seemed like a good enough day to at least look through it. The gnomes had their orders and were busy with the pier right now, as well as the rest of the still incomplete city they had to work on.

Narnian history was interesting. It was mostly peaceful…oddly peaceful for the first nine hundred years of its life. It was strange, she thought, that they categorized the world so well by years. Tahalset didn't ever say "the first eight hundred" in any of their histories. Then there was the coming of the White Witch, though the details of that were very vague.

Then a hundred years of winter.

She remembered Rilian speaking of that before with the deepest fear. It was impressive, though…the idea that anyone could be so powerful as to hold an entire world in winter for that long. Sara remembered her arrival at Harfang years ago…even the words she had read in that book and spoken out loud, the words of a thousand year dead witch whose power had nothing to do with Sara, had still managed to have a momentary effect on her own power. Perhaps in some way Sara admired the witch, for doing what no one else in the world could. In Mayharran, it was only in mythology that people did things like that. In Narnia, it had truly happened.

It was such a shame the witch had to die. Sara would have liked to meet this mysterious figure and express her admiration at the witch's boldness for what she had done.

And foolishness. The Witch had been foolish to ignore the prophecy made against her. If only she had acknowledged it as truth, she could have prevented her own demise. If only she had killed that child she had seen that one time, then it would have been impossible for the four thrones to be filled and impossible for the prophecy to come true. But the Witch had been so confident in her own abilities that she had thought she could outwit a prophecy. It didn't work, the Witch was killed and her winter ended. Sara thought it was a shame that someone so great could be brought down by a simple matter of overconfidence.

Three years ago she wouldn't have thought that. She remembered a day when the thought of the White Witch horrified her, when she was absolutely appalled that anyone could inflict such cruelty upon a world like that.

Sara flipped the page. That was another time and place, a time when it actually mattered to her, when thoughts of good and evil were boundaries that she knew she had to stay within the tight confines of.

The Battle of Beruna. That looked useful.

The final battle against the Witch. Two armies, one being the Witch's army, full of terrible, powerful creatures and the Witch herself at its head, her head high and her wand at the ready, turning creatures to stone left and right. And the second, the Narnian army…the people who had dared stand against the Witch, brave but foolish souls who accepted the fact that with Aslan dead they had not a chance against the Witch, even with their prophesized kings fighting with them.

The diagrams showed the obvious divide between the forces. The Narnians were a ragtag army, people who didn't fully believe that they were capable of winning. The Witch's army was at full strength, and the Witch herself was filled with confidence that if he could defeat Aslan, all she had left to do was finish off the Narnians and then the world would belong to her forever. Overconfidence on the Witch's part.

Or…confidence on the Narnian side?

Sara skimmed the diagram and then the writing that accompanied it. Narnia was facing overwhelming odds, odds that in any other world would have incited the people to give up before the battle even began. It was clear they would be crushed in an instant, facing a humiliating defeat against a foe they had tried for so long to rise up against. They had no hope, no promise of actually surviving this.

But they fought.

Sara's hand froze above the page as she read of the words King Peter had said to his army beforehand. They had no chance. They were all going to die. But they fought. They battled the Witch's army, words of freedom for Narnia…cries of "For Narnia, and for Aslan" filling the air even though there was no Aslan and soon there would be no Narnia. It was hopeless. Yet they were determined to make one final attempt to try and save their world, even when they knew it would soon die.

Sara stood up, reading over that passage several more times.

They still fought. They were all going to die, but rather…rather die than…than leave their country in the hands of a witch.

Of course they would.

She had been in Narnia. She had seen the people for herself, seen the bold determination and nationalistic pride in each of their eyes. They would sooner die than give up their kingdom.

This had not been the first time. They fought against the White Witch, that was the first thing. Then…then she remembered later from Rilian's tales of his father, back when Rilian's wicked great uncle Miraz had taken Narnia himself and all of old Narnia, the dwarves, the naiads, the Talking Beasts…had gone into hiding. Caspian had defied that as well and set off in a desperate search of old Narnia, and in the end brought it back.

Narnia was not foolish. They may sometimes act the part, but in truth, they were no more of fools than she was. They would fight for their country.

She threw the history book down, watching it land in an awkward position, the pages splayed open on the ground. Of course they would fight! Now she was the fool, thinking that they would simply roll over and let her take over their country. Thinking that the king and queen would beg for mercy! Gods, it was a nice image, a pretty fantasy…but the reality! It was more likely that the king and queen would take up arms against her and fight back. She'd surprise them with her army, but before long they would have an army of their own and fight her. They wouldn't lie down. She wouldn't easily take over their country.

The Witch and her army were destroyed, King Miraz was defeated.

She realized then, with disgust, that if she did what she had intended on doing…marching forth and taking Narnia and forcing the king and queen to kneel to her…she too would be defeated. They would crush her army, and perhaps they would take her prisoner in their dungeons, if they had any. Either way, they showed in the past they had no tolerance for someone they believed was a witch…what would they show to Sara who know was truly a witch, and an evil one at that? No mercy, certainly. And her name would be in the history books as a fool who hadn't thought enough and had her entire army, and however many years of work it would take, destroyed for that mistake. And what would that be? A waste.

And then…

Narnia would fight back. And her army she had enchanted, and by then…two years…they were so enchanted that they would indeed do whatever she said. She would have ordered them to attack Narnia and its people. They would do that. And Narnia would fight them…

The king and queen weren't the type to sit back while their country was under attack. Hell, the entire royalty in Cair Paravel wasn't. They would fight too. They proved in the past that they would.

That meant Rilian would.

Oh, that she didn't mind. A faint smile came to her face at that image…he was so brave, and he would be standing at the head of that army, dressed all in…whatever knights wore, she still wasn't certain because they didn't have knights in Mayharran…and he would make stirring speeches of some kind and lead the army forward. He would fight for his country that he cared about so much, in that stupid noble way that he always did.

And he would die…

He would advance with his army, and they would meet hers. They would have orders to kill everyone in Narnia. They would kill him. There were so many Bism gnomes here, there would be too many for him to fight.

The smile faded from her face at the thought of that, and the vivid image that it conjured. He would fight bravely, but there would be too many…he would fall beneath their three-pronged spears, and no doubt one of those gnomes, so blindly obedient to her orders, would…

No!

She kicked the history book and then strode across the room, fisting her fingers in her curly hair in an attempt to drive out the sudden image. No, he couldn't die! He would not die because of something she did. She hated his damned fiancée (she couldn't even remember the name now), she hated what he did to her, promises broken after being so solemnly sworn…but she didn't want him to die. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if her own army took his life. And then what would the use be? She had no interest in ruling Narnia other than that, other than to see the king and queen fall and take Rilian's hand at last. When she stood as queen of Narnia, he would stand by her side, with one arm on her shoulders the way he used to do and they would rule the entire world. He would love her again.

He would not die.

But if she did this, then it was very likely that he would.

She could not let that happen.

But what could she do? She already began creating the army. She had to change her plans. She couldn't let him die. She would have to conquer Narnia…some…some other way? Or do things a different way.

She sat back down by the fire and took several deep breaths. She had to do something. But what was there that she could do? She already began everything. But there was a way. She could always find a way. After all, this was her own kingdom…and everything that she thought up could be created. All she had to do was think of something else and it would be done. But what? What could she do? There weren't any ideas coming to her mind.

She closed her eyes and thought of her army again the way she had envisioned it. She was standing at its head, was she not? Yes, of course. That would strike fear into their hearts. That was what the White Witch did. Maybe if she did that, Sara thought dryly, they would even go so far as to in their fear imagine her as the reincarnation of that vicious witch of the past…hah, wouldn't that be entertaining! But it wouldn't go far. She'd die. Her army would die. Rilian would die.

She couldn't think of anything right now. She was focusing so hard that it left nothing, that it was only making her frustrated as she came up with no ideas. Ideas took longer to come, didn't they? She could remember years ago sitting at home, trying to come up with an idea for a paper. Nothing came…what did she do? Nothing, usually. Went over to Hylaea's house and they would stay out all night having ice cream.

A walk ought to do it.

No, more like…oh, forget it. She would figure something out. She had to. Maybe…ah, some time at Harfang, perhaps. Some place out in the open where she could see Ettinsmoor and realize just how vast the world was. It was hard to come up with brilliant ideas when all you were looking at was your own ideas. Ettinsmoor was hers, but she did not create it. She was only good enough to rule it. A week at Harfang…there. She would do that.

She prepared for several days for her departure. It was getting annoying, this constant preparation to switch between the two places, but she would get used to it. She left for Harfang, a journey that took over a day to do. She would have to find a way to create a more direct route to the surface if she wanted it to take less time. But the change of scenery, she determined, would do her good, and perhaps help her to come up with an idea before everything got too far and she couldn't reverse her army and what they were doing.

Either way, it was the best thing to do.

She left for Harfang and found it somewhat of a relief staying there. The giants were obedient as they always were, but it was…it was refreshing, the fact that their obedience came of their own free will. Janile was proud of running the castle as well as she was. It was a shame, really, that the queen hadn't died yet, Sara thought. Janile would be an ideal queen of Harfang. Maybe someday.

She still couldn't come up with any ideas. It was ridiculous.

Finally deciding that staying at Harfang wouldn't do anything, she decided to ride through Ettinsmoor. She hadn't done that in awhile, and it was a nice spring day. The air was pleasant, still having the bite of winter but warming up enough where a ride would be comfortable. She hadn't rode through her northern territory in a long time and even though Janile said everything was fine, she still felt like she ought to see for herself. Plus, the ride would be nice. It was a large amount of territory, and the movement would hopefully give her an idea.

The territory was vast, and it was wonderful to be out in the open again, and there were few places in the world as open as Ettinsmoor. She rode through the first quarter belonging to Harfang in a few days, stopping when the horse needed to and sleeping among the rocks. It was a far cry from her castle in Underland, or from Harfang itself, but it certainly a change of scenery.

She didn't know what led her to a small, pretty glade on the border of Narnia and Ettinsmoor. It was not on either territory, technically. It rested right on the border, though it was closer to Narnian territory, that much was certain. The grass was greener here than Ettinsmoor, and it was growing new in the spring air. Several flowers had come up around a small fountain that flowed out of the earth. The fountain was pleasant, and the water was crystal clear and ice cold, having come from the underground passages that carried water throughout Ettinsmoor. It was an odd spot for a glade, resting in the cold northern parts of the world, but it was there nevertheless. It was exceptionally nice on this warm spring day, when winter was thawing and everything was just starting to come to life once again.

Sara found it odd that there was a glade here that she had never noticed before. It was most likely because it was so close to Narnia's territory that for all purposes it _was _Narnia's territory, and just a small part of it belonged to her. It wasn't anywhere near the marshes, which belonged to the marsh-wiggles and not to her. A strange spot, certainly, but it was a pretty one. She rather liked it.

She dismounted and tied the horse to a nearby tree. There were enough trees, sheltering the glade and overhanging, covering it in just enough shade to be comfortable but letting enough light through to keep it warm. She made a note to put this down on the map once she got home, and to see if there were other glades around this area as well she hadn't noticed until now. Clearly she hadn't explored her territory enough until now, or maybe it was just because it was so close to Narnia that she hadn't bothered to look at it. Either way, it made a nice rest spot.

The water was cool and refreshing, no doubt coming from the mountains and cooled by the chill of the northern moors. It would be interesting to see where the source of this pool was. Maybe it had a source in Underland? That was a possibility. She'd set several gnomes on looking for it the moment she got back.

It was terribly peaceful here, more than she anticipated. She left the horse where it was and sat underneath one of the trees, leaning back against it and closing her eyes. The sunlight felt warmer here than it did anywhere else she had ridden these weeks. It was pleasant, and the air was still crisp from winter but the coming of spring was evident. It was the ideal spot to relax, and she definitely had to see if there were more glades like this. Sara put her arms behind her head and leaned back, dozing off under the trees, knowing it really wouldn't do that much but it was nice to relax at least for a moment.

"What glade, sir? Is this the one?"

"I think so. I don't know, someone from the south told me, I don't know what they were doing this far north, but…"

Sara's eyes snapped open and she sat straight up, hearing the voices. Those weren't any of her voices, she knew by now what her giants sounded like. These were normal voices, which meant…oh, blast it all, there were Narnians here! What the hell were they doing here? Who came by this glade anyway? Who even knew it was here?

The Narnians, obviously. Maybe they came here all the time while she was just finding out of its existence. Damn it all. She hadn't thought of that. There she went with the not thinking again, what nonsense.

She stood up and took several steps back. How close were they? Could she get her horse untied and riding away before they actually entered the glade and saw her?

Then her hand fell away from the tree and she mentally scolded herself for thinking that. Why would she need to run away? Running away was for people who were afraid. She couldn't be afraid of Narnians, not when she would eventually be the ruler of them all.

Maybe it would be best just to observe them. It would make sense…maybe they would say something that would be useful to her. Any information was good when it came from one's enemies, no matter what it was.

"I didn't even know this was here," said another voice.

"Neither did I. Other people do, though, they told me it was here, do you want to come see? I'm going to take a look around and see if that Sparrow was right."

She'd do her own spying. The grass was green, and there were several bushes and trees…with all this green, she'd be able to blend in no problem. Now she'd just have to hurry…she took off her coat and her boots as quick as she could and threw them under a bush, leaving her only in a dress. It wasn't tight enough, it would take more concentration, but it would do. She hadn't expected to be transforming at all, and any proper enchanter knew it was easier to transform in tight clothing. Left less to worry about, and less to think about when transforming back. Hylaea had forgotten that once and was wearing a dress and a pretty shawl and scarf, and she thought so much about it when she was trying to transform back that she ended up forgetting entirely and transforming back only wearing underpants. Sara had giggled about it for days, though Hylaea never thought it funny at all.

"It's just around the corner, here,"

Quickly! They were nearly there! Sara pressed her hands together and her back against the tree. The stars, were they still here? No. No, she couldn't see the stars anymore. She hadn't seen the Mayharran stars in years and barely remembered them anymore. How could she transform if she didn't remember what her own stars looked like? Not easily, not easily at all.

It was harder to do it that way. But she had done it before, hadn't she? She closed her eyes and tried to see the stars in her mind, but the form was vague, the light wasn't familiar anymore. What could she do? There was, there were…her reliefs.

She had many reliefs of Srinia carved into her Underland, at least what was done so far. There were those. She had them all done, and the largest one, the one in the main room of her castle, she ordered…she ordered the stars carved there, right above Srinia's image. She had that done early on, when she still remembered the stars, so she would keep remembering them. Good.

It wasn't the same as home. Using stone stars for pinpoints instead of the real ones wasn't easy…it took so much extra effort, because the form itself responded to real stars, not images of them. It took so much longer now, even as she focused and reached for the innate power that bound her other form to her. It went slowly…her limbs melted together, reluctantly, and the skin and hair replaced with shining green scales. It didn't normally take this long. She'd have to work on it when she returned…

Thankfully it worked, and she collapsed into a coiled heap once the transformation was complete. She flicked her tongue in and out, tasting the cool air. She couldn't see very well anymore…the grass blades were clear in front of her, but beyond that it gradually blurred so all she could see where vague outlines and shapes. But she could taste them, everyone there. There was her horse, and there were three…four…five other horses on the outskirts of the glade. There were five people, too, but she couldn't tell. Who were they? Narnians, that's all she knew. They were people, not Beasts, she could tell that immediately.

"Here it is,"

She curled up tighter and her tail twitched as she sensed them enter the glade. Five people. Two of them had heavy footsteps.

"This is the glade, sire? It's not on the map."

"Well, Drinian, I guess we'll just have to put it on the map."

Drinian. The name sounded familiar. Maybe because it was similar to Rilian's?

"Very well, but I didn't bring any maps with me."

"That's fine," said the female voice. "I'm sure we can all remember where it is, right?"

"Remember?" asked a fourth voice. "Oh, absolutely. People memorize places for their maps all the time. No one actually maps it out, they just remember and then write it down later, and hope that it's going to be the same…"

"Oh, leave her alone,"

"Yes, you shouldn't make remarks about your future queen, you know." Scolded a different voice. "Or else she could exile you to the farthest reaches of…help me out here…"

"Calormen?" the female voice replied. "Yes, and make you live with the…the…whatever they have in Calormen."

"That would be Calormenes, dear."

"Oh. Well. Whatever else they have there that's absolutely horrendous."

"That would still be Calormenes."

Then there was laughter, and further words that Sara couldn't quite make out.

Sara's head came up, though she was careful still to stay hidden and not exhibit any behavior that wasn't natural for a snake. Well, this…this was certainly information if it was anything. But what information! Damn it all, there were hundreds of people in the world that could be in this glade at that moment, and the future queen of Narnia, oh, what was her name, had to be among them. Did the gods ever tire of doing this to her? Clearly not, though the gods were all a world away and shouldn't be wanting to bother with a lost enchantress anymore. But it was irony, no doubt, and the one thing all gods loved was irony.

She couldn't see very well and could just make out the outlines, but that girl's voice still reverberated in her mind. She knew that voice. She had liked that girl, too…the two of them had shared tea once a long time ago, and she had even gone so far as to say she reminded her of Hylaea. But that was before she learned who the girl was, and had long since vowed to somehow destroy that damned Archenland noble, someday to see the girl bowing to her and pressing her hands over her head in submission. But hearing her voice was all the worse…how could Sara ever have thought her pleasant? Maybe it was the snake's hearing that did it, that made Sal's voice suddenly grating on every nerve in Sara's small body. She bared her fangs, useless as they were except but to bite and startle one's victims, in an instinctive attempt to scare away her enemy.

Did that mean Rilian was here with her?

Oh gods, it did. Please let him speak again.

"I'm going to sit down. And then think of how I'm going to exile Fan to Calormen. Maybe I'll do it in an elaborate manner, you know, I can make him dress up and do that…didn't someone do that once? Dress someone up in Calormen robes and look…oh…ridiculous?" She felt the rustling of the grass as Sal sat down.

"That would be Rabadash. He was an extremely foolish Calormen who staged a war to win the hand of Queen Susan the Gentle, hundreds of years ago."

"Oh. Well, then. Look who doesn't know Narnian history as well as I should. Sorry, Lord Drinian, don't give me that look, I'll study as soon as we get back…"

That girl's voice, and…and that was Rilian's voice, speaking with her. She wasn't used to hearing it in this form, hence why she didn't recognize it sooner…but she knew his voice, she knew it immediately now that she was certain. Oh, he was here! She had to see him. If just to…to…to see him.

Knowing the risks, as always, she slithered forward and remained low in the grass. She could hear better, and even the outlines seemed a little clearer now. She could see the girl, though she obviously was a woman now, in the grass, lying on her back by the spring.

"Well, I know the names of all the kings and queens dating back to the first king and queen, Frank and Helen. That's a good thing, I'm sure. But I don't see why it's so important to know when you can just look it up in a book."

A sound of displeasure came from Drinian.

She heard laughter…Rilian's laughter, clear as the sunlight that filtered through the trees into the glade. The grass rustled as he sat down.

"Drinian likes his history far too much, Sal, just ignore him when he gets like this." he said to the woman…oh, right, Sal was her name…in a quiet voice. "Thinks it's absolutely important we memorize every bit of it. It's far more interesting to see it, though…remind me to take you to Beruna again, where the final battle was fought against the White Witch. Rumors have it that if you stand there on that summer day the battle took place and put your head to the ground, you can still hear the ghosts of all those who died there."

"Sounds mysterious." replied Sal in a dreamy voice.

"I'll take you there."

"I'll go with you."

"I'll just go see if there are any other glades." came Drinian's voice. "We'll go scout around and make ourselves useful, as the queen seems to think that we're still babysitters." Drinian added as an afterthought to the other men. Sara felt the, mount their horses and ride off. Well, they were gone, maybe she could get a little closer…just…just a little, enough to see…

"And how old do they think we are?" Sal asked.

"I'd say about…oh…thirteen, maybe," Rilian replied.

"Maybe we secretly are thirteen."

"Maybe. We just don't know it yet."

"They'll let us know in a few years."

"Then…well, by then we won't be thirteen anymore. They'll have to let us know now."

"Ah. Good point. Maybe they'll tell us when we get back. Unless they find this glade so fascinating that it'll distract them from letting us in on their deep, well-kept secret."

Just a little closer, she still couldn't see. There…there, she could see! The colors weren't there, everything was in a somewhat hazy black and white, but she could see now that she was close enough. Sal was still lying on the ground and Rilian was next to her, sitting up with one knee up and his hands resting on it, looking so relaxed, an amused smile on his face.

Sara put her head on the grass. He hadn't seen her, that was good. Did he even remember she had a starform? She had only transformed in front of him once, and it was so long ago even she didn't fully recall it. Surely he had forgotten.

He was looking comfortable, resting on the grass like that, his face turned slightly to catch the sun. She wanted to reach out and press her hand to his cheek and see him smile at her, though she didn't have hands right now…it was nearly overpowering, and she had to turn away for fear that she'd transform into her natural form if just to sit with him in the sun. Sal was, and…damned ungrateful girl! She didn't seem to appreciate it, sitting on her back and staring at the sky with her eyes half closed. It didn't seem to matter to her the fact that Rilian was next to her, talking to her and laughing. Did she even care? Foolish girl! He didn't deserve her, this idiot Archenland princess who didn't fully appreciate him and everything that he was! Sara curled her tail around and rested her head on it, fixing one eye on Sal. How she hated that girl, how she wished she could tell Rilian what a mistake he was making…this girl obviously didn't care about him. She was only a princess, wanting the same thing every princess wanted…access to the true power of the world, of course. Was she using him? Oh yes, that was entirely a possibility! The only possibility, really. Why else would she be here? She couldn't love him. Not the way Sara did…no one could, especially not this girl! This girl didn't know Rilian at all, she only shook her hair out and laughed in the sun and wanted Narnia. This girl only claimed to love him. She couldn't really, it had to be a lie, anything the girl said. Oh Rilian, why are you listening to her? She doesn't really love you. She doesn't understand you the way I do. Can't you see that?

But she was only a snake; she couldn't say anything. Snakes didn't speak.

If only Sara had the power to do away with her right here…hah, enchanting an entire Underland with nothing but power in her hands, yet she could not do this one simple thing. She couldn't kill the bloody foolish girl, for despite it all, she knew how he would look…oh, it would be a hundred times worse than when Sara killed the Shrew. She could never erase that look from her mind…such horror! Such utter shock that she would be capable of murder…oh, Rilian, I am capable of so much more than that, but I'll never show you. You don't need to see that. But I can't kill her…can I? It…wouldn't be too hard, a simple extract of deadly nightshade in the princess's tea and that would be the last they'd see of her.

Such a nice idea. Then she would die, and Rilian would realize his mistake…realize that he didn't love the princess anymore, that it was only a momentary thing…that's what he had said to Sara, momentary thing…and then he would come to her and take her hand and apologize, and say, I didn't mean what I said before, Sara, don't you know I have always loved you…

Then Drinian returned and she had to get back to the deeper cover of trees and grass. Sara couldn't see anymore, and she had to strain to hear their voices. Eventually she gave up but stayed there the whole afternoon anyway, watching them and trying to understand them.

No. No, Sara had been wrong. What was she thinking? Sal was selfish? No, of course not. The damnable princess loved Rilian every bit as much as she had. She remembered the way Sal had been when she went to visit in Cair and knew that she wouldn't lie and wouldn't manipulate anyone for selfish reasons.

And it wasn't right, none of this! It should be her in that glade, sitting next to him by the spring staring at the sky. She should be there, letting him play with her hair, laughing, telling ridiculous stories like that and commenting about the world and how preposterous it could be, just like they used to.

What did she think, that he would turn away from his princess and look at Sara again that same way? That he would take Sara's hand willingly in the face of the world? No. He never would. He'd come with her as a friend, perhaps, if he ever got over his terror of seeing her as a murderer. But he'd never do anything further. She had always seen in her mind him coming to her after she had taken Narnia, but no…no, he never would. He would never come to her voluntarily.

She closed her eyes and drifted off, a mere reptile soaking in the sun, until the sun set below the trees and they left the glade.

He'd never come to her again. He would sooner die than see his country taken over. And she still wanted him.

Sara transformed back into her natural form and took the jacket and boots that she had cast aside earlier, pulling them on and going back to her impatient horse. She kept fooling herself, thinking he would go back to her. That would never happen. He would die, she would die, nothing would work out. And the only reason she was doing any of this was to have him with her again…

No! She wasn't going to give up!

She jerked hard on the horse's reigns, and the horse let out a neigh of protest. What, was she just going to give up because of one setback? The Archenland princess she wouldn't have to worry about…that princess was only a normal princess, and Sara was a genuine evil enchantress, one with power enough to create a kingdom where no one else could. What threat could one princess be? None at all. She could find something to do to get rid of her, she could no doubt devise some plan. And…hadn't she come out here to change her plans, change her way of going about the conquest of the world? That was the original purpose for the ride out. And…and maybe…

Rilian would never stand with her voluntarily.

Maybe then he would stand with her involuntarily…

She mounted the horse and kicked it furiously in the sides. "Come on now, Thalia, hurry up now. Let's go home."

The horse bucked its head and set off at a slow trot, then gradually she sped it up to a gallop. She passed by several other glades like this one before breaking into open moor territory. The light was fading from the sky, casting long shadows from the rocks on the moor. The air was chilly now, and she was grateful for her coat. The sun continued to set, and there…there…she found her idea.

It came to her so suddenly that she pulled the horse to a stop, jerking on the reins and sending it skidding to a halt. The horse protested and whinnied angrily, staggering and throwing up showers of loose gravel and dirt as it tried to right itself. Stupid horse.

It was so clear that she couldn't see why she hadn't thought of it before.

She was only doing this to have him with her…she didn't particularly care about Narnia, it was only the means which would achieve the end. Well, she still wanted Narnia, if just to take the damnable land she had once lived in and shape it the way she wanted to, like she could do with anything, to show them that she had every bit the power that they believed she did and was no longer afraid to use it. But she knew she'd be defeated if she came alone with only her army. Well…

Years ago, they had often said with much suspicion that she was there only to enchant their prince and use him to take over the throne.

Well, why not?

It was so perfect, so brilliant, she scolded herself for not coming up with it earlier. It wasn't that hard to enchant people, she found. She had the whole Underland in her power, she took every single one of them and bent them to her will. They did nothing except what she put into their heads. How hard would it be to do the same thing to only one person? There would be difficulties, as she knew Rilian…he was nowhere near as submissive and bewildered as the people of the Underland would be. She would have to be careful.

It would be ideal. He belonged to her, he always did. She would find him and enchant him until he did, until he bowed over her hand and followed her wherever she asked.

Narnia couldn't do a damned thing then. Ah, she could see the surprise on their faces clear as day, the look on the king's face as he saw his son standing with her, sword drawn, prepared to fight the very country he came from. And the rest of Narnia would be helpless and shocked, knowing that their precious heir belonged, as he always had, to the same foreign enchantress they had cursed years before.

She wouldn't have to keep him enchanted forever. Only until she finished her work. And when it was over they would be married, and she would have…ah, what was the word? Legitimacy. It was the easiest way to join oneself to a country. If she married him, then it would be ten times easier to take over Narnia, for not only would she have her own army, but she would have true access to the throne and legitimacy over it.

Why hadn't she thought of this before? It was so simple. Then once enchanted, she would…she could truly make him hers, and he would again stand with her and promise her the universe.

It would have to be flawless. She knew by now what it was like to have plans that fell through, ones that crashed into nothing. Ah, but she wouldn't let that happen here! She'd create a plan, a grand master plan, and go through it until she was absolutely sure nothing would go wrong. Then she would start it…

It took a week to return to Harfang, and then several days to get back to Underland. They were all anxious for her return, naturally, since she had enchanted them to be loyal to her. And finally she was back in her castle, sitting in the throne she had carved for herself, one hand resting on the armrest and the other hand flipping idly through her book, which still worked, even after all these years. Perhaps that was a small mercy from the gods back at home, allowing at least the enchanted book to stay as such.

It would not be easy. There would be so much that could go wrong, as there always was. But there was time now. Sara smiled. She had all the time in the universe.


	22. Chapter 22

_It wouldn't be a problem._

_After all, it was too simple to have faults, at least the second stage of it. First…she was only a snake, after all. A small harmless green snake, like many other enchanters in Mayharran. A green snake had no power, except for perhaps the power of fear over someone, but what good would that do? A proper evil enchanter couldn't do anything with a form like that, not like Hylaea who could transform into a cheetah. She was only a snake._

_That could be changed._

_Not easily, of course. After all, no one ever tried to alter their starform. At home, it was frowned upon and any records of it actually being done were only allowed to be seen by post-university enchanters who specialized in the studying of starforms and how they worked. It could be done, of course, but only under controlled circumstances, with not only the approval of the magistrate but of councils all across Tahalset. _

_It was risky business, not only treading on thin moral ground (under what circumstances would it be considered right to alter your natural born gift? And moreover, how would you be changing it? Why would you need to change it at all, when hardly any enchanter did it?) but with great personal danger involved. It would take intense preparation, calculation, and absolutely everything set in the right order depending on how one would want to change it, and all of that had to be checked and rechecked a thousand times over before performing the change. The slightest miscalculation could mean permanent death of the starform, leaving the enchanter in question being unable to ever transform again. In the worst case, it could mean death of the enchanter themselves. And even starform death would be considered death…for part of what made an enchanter who they were was the gift of a starform. If the form died, it would take much of the person's gift with it, leaving that person no longer an enchanter. _

_There was so much that could go wrong._

_But she knew better than to miscalculate._

_That's why it took a year to get it done. A year of calculations, once the decision was made. Of course from now on, there would be no turning back. Changing one's starform was almost completely unheard of in Mayharran. No one had done it in the last hundred years, at least. _

_Well, she would be the first. _

_It was easy to find a subject. She had it carved into her kingdom without thinking, one of the many reliefs depicting events in the mythology of her homeworld. It was right next to the one of Tiendra fighting off the eastern beast with twelve arms and eight heads, every head having more teeth than could be counted in a day. It was one of the ones of Srinia…she had many depictions of the goddess all around Underland, thinking it would do well to draw strength and show respect to her natural goddess. This one was in one the smaller quarters of the city, and it showed Srinia and her defeat of her vicious southern cousin, Sness. Sness lived in a land so far south one fully expected it to lead right into the north. Sness was the supposed king of that southern land, a thick, enormous python with a bright, horrid green color, and two poisonous fangs that dripped when he opened his mouth. Sness was a fearsome figure, and ruled that land for hundreds of years. He wasn't a good ruler, threatening any who opposed him with being crushed in his thick coils or bitten with his poisonous fangs. It was when the terror grew too great that Srinia came down and fought her southern cousin, and came out victorious, naturally. Sness was defeated, for he wasn't as intelligent as Srinia was, preferring to flaunt his power as opposed to intellect. He was easily overpowered, and it was considered one of the greatest triumphs, how a small green snake could defeat someone as terrifying as Sness. But it was done, and it was the reason Srinia was the snake depicted in the stars instead of Sness. _

_She didn't have to be anything like Sness. Srinia was still her goddess. But Sness could be her form._

_The calculations had to be exact, and they were. She checked them over so many times that they began to look like nothing in her eyes. But they were perfect…they had to be, or else everything would be ruined before she fully started it._

_The first stage would be to expand the natural form, so instead of transforming into a small green snake, she would be taking on the form of a thick southern python. And then further…and this part was far more difficult…creating the poison, and making that poison part of that form without killing herself. The poison had to be just so…it never said what sort of poison Sness had, only that it was deadly._

_She used to be a healer. She knew the sort of thing she needed to look for in creating a poison. It had to be subtle, enough to kill but enough to be undetectable. And quick. that was even more important. It had to be so quick that even if an antidote existed, it couldn't be found in time. She knew the sort of herbs they had in Narnia, and had to make sure that none of those could be used to counter the poison. She knew also the way people's bodies worked, and had to design the poison through that…_

_It would be quick. It would deliver certain death, attacking the central nervous system, causing paralysis and muscle spasms, then pulmonary paralysis, leaving the person unable to speak or breathe, and then cardiac arrest shortly afterwards. Death would be in minutes, and nothing could cure it. She made sure of that, too. _

_It would be dangerous. There was the possibility that if one alteration didn't kill her, the other one would…and the other one most likely was going to, if anything._

_But if she succeeded, then not only would it be a scientific triumph, as the few other records of enchanters attempting this at home were under extreme controlled circumstances with other enchanters helping, but it would take her normal, harmless starform and make it into something huge and poisonous and deadly…perfect for an evil enchantress. Perfect for her plans._

_There would be risks, of course. But there were always risks. _

_She set the finished product, a thin gold syrup, on the table in front of her. It had a bitter smell, and once she injected it into her arm, the serum would take affect, using the natural plants as well as her own magic to proceed to alter her starform. If it worked, she would be changed permanently…and then there really would be no turning back. She would have to go through with this. If it failed, she would most likely die._

_Two chances, and both there would be no returning from._

_Well, such was the price that had to be paid for this sort of thing._

_She gave the earthmen their orders as to what they should do depending on how the serum would affect her once injected. Now, her door was open, and Mullugutherum was standing at the entrance. She would order him in once she was about to do it, and trust him and the others to handle everything. They would still be enchanted whether she was conscious or not. The only way the enchantment would fall from them would be if she took it off, or if she died. Well, that was an option today, if she ended up miscalculating something and dying…_

_The serum glimmered gold, looking far more innocent than it truly was. Well, it was now or never. There could be no fear anymore, if she was really to do this. _

_No fear. No hesitation and second thoughts from here on out. _

_She raised the syringe that contained the serum. _

_No turning back._

* * *

_There are two types of madness…the first is the true kind, the kind that still held the former elder Thanagel in its grasp. Thanagel still lived in the lower dungeons of her castle, crouched in the back and whimpering from the memory of sunlight in his eyes and cold, bright wind in his face. Thanagel refused to let anyone come near him. He had only seen the upper world for a moment, and ever since then remained in the Underland…but the madness held him, making him always think he was in that upper world that he feared so much. Nothing could bring him out of it, even when the safe Underland was right in front of him. _

_True madness could never be reversed. Thanagel was lost to it, alternately crouching in fear in the back of his cell or running around, banging his head on the wall in an attempt to escape the Overworld scenery that still haunted his mind. There was no Thanagel anymore, there was only a wild shell of the person he once was._

_That was true madness. It took someone and never let them go, it gradually ate away at that person until nothing was left._

_The second type could be cultivated._

_It wasn't real, that one. She had tried it on several of her gnomes and seen its affect, seen the way they reacted to her. It could only be brought about by her own power and her enchantment. It could make one forget who they were, forget their friends, and lose their minds to something, to someone…if that someone was strong enough to keep it up. It would start small and gradually build up, making the person slowly lose themselves in the way that they didn't even notice it until they were lost entirely. Soon they wouldn't think anything was wrong, the more it became wrong. It wasn't easy to do. One could capture someone's mind in an instant and have them forever…that was what she did to the people of Bism. But taking it gradually…that would take time. It would take patience. _

_But once done…ah, that would be ideal. Once completed, even if she released the person in question from that enchanted madness and let them into their right mind, there would still be the potential at her slightest whim to bring back the madness and settle it in their mind once again._

_Time and effort. There was always time and effort. But nothing was ever easy, and something like this…nothing could go wrong. It was one thing to enchant people at once, to cast aside all their souls and replace it with what she wanted.. It was another thing to capture someone and hold their body and soul captive to her forever. You couldn't just take that all at once. You had to come back, and back again, until soon that person wouldn't know if their thoughts were their own or their enchanter's thoughts, until the lines between the two blurred so far that it would be harder to separate them than to keep them together. That was far different than anything else she had done before._

_But she was the Queen of Underland. She could do the impossible. This was just another impossible thing along the way to making this dark dream a reality, to taking the imaginary and building it, making it as real as this dream kingdom she raised from the dust._

* * *

Queen Estelle yawned, setting aside the pastry she had been eating. It was such a lovely spring day, and Estelle found herself more content than she had been in a long time. There was always so much to worry about as a queen, especially with the recent negative reaction of the Beruna Conference to her persistent son's insistence on meeting with the parliament of Owls more often than the Conference.

But it was too nice a day to think of such troubles. The sun was shining and the wind was fair and warm, and this glade…Rilian had been telling her about this glade for what, a year and a half, maybe two? He said it was lovely, and there were plenty of glades like this around this area. He and Sal had gone there all the time. Estelle promised for awhile now that she'd come too, but she hardly had time. Today she decided to make time…she had been late in the night looking over several Conference letters, and had been all worked up due to something a Griffin said, and burned the oil far after midnight trying to work out what she was going to say. "You're working too hard," Rilian said to her. "I'm taking these, and you're coming with me. We're going to _relax _today, understand that, mother? That's a direct order." He hid the Conference letters and taken her as well as other knights and squires, friends, and Estelle herself, to the glade. It was a lovely May day, warm and fresh. Estelle protested, insisting she absolutely had to see to these letters now, but her protests were halfhearted as she secretly felt like taking the Conference letters and throwing them into the fire. Rilian knew this…the two of them had been close in recent years…and together they all rode out to the glade.

The picnic lasted most of the morning, with fresh pastries, coffee, juice, and eggs. The breakfast was wonderful, and Estelle forgot entirely about all her Conference stress by the time the sun hung high above the trees. She told several stories of her own, and a particularly amusing anecdote about two centaurs and a mushroom from her earlier days as queen.

She hadn't enjoyed herself this much in a long time, she admitted to Rilian. All he did was grin knowingly, and she shook her head at having such an observant son, or at least such a determined one. But it was a long morning, and the coffee wasn't enough to keep her awake. By the afternoon, the food was settling and Estelle was starting to drop off, feeling drowsy in the warm sun.

"Oh, it's because I'm old," Estelle said jokingly when one of the ladies pointed out that she was looking rather tired. "Soon I'll be going to sleep right after the sun sets and waking up early in the morning. But just a small nap, I think."

There were a few more jokes about Estelle's sleepiness, but it was all in good nature, she understood.

Rilian finally made them all stop their jokes, and put down his cloak in one of the grassy banks away from the fountain for her. It was far enough away from the party where she wouldn't hear their laughter and loud words while she tried to sleep, but close enough where if she stood she could still catch sight of them. It was pleasant there, and she could hear the sounds of birds over her head and the fountain bubbling close by. Rilian had left, going back with the others, promising to come wake her in a little over an hour.

Estelle dozed off to sleep, resting her head on a pack stuffed with a cloak that one of the squires had given her as a pillow. She closed her eyes and would have slept the whole hour, but a sudden noise close by woke her.

Estelle sat upright, wondering first if it was Rilian coming back to wake her up, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Yes? Yes, hello?" she called, waiting for someone to answer her. Maybe one of the other people in their party had come…but she couldn't see anyone. Strange. Estelle shrugged, figuring that it was just a product of her sleepiness and overworked brain and rested her head back on the pillow.

"Queen Estelle, is it?"

Estelle jumped again and sat up, looking wildly around. "Who's there?"

"Good afternoon, Queen Estelle,"

Estelle looked and finally saw coming out of the bushes closest to her a lady, tall, with curly blond hair and bright green eyes. She was wearing a long, dark green dress that shone when the sun hit it. It brushed the floor but not a single twig was caught on it, and the dress was…at least in Estelle's eyes…indecently tight.

"Good afternoon, lady," Estelle said, sitting up and adjusting herself to a proper queenly position. Estelle seemed to vaguely recall seeing this lady somewhere before, but couldn't remember where. "Won't you sit down?"

"Why, thank you."

The lady smiled and sat down next to Estelle. Her skirts didn't rustle at all when she sat in the grass.

"It's been a long time, your majesty." The lady said. "How are you?"

Estelle blinked. For the life of her, she couldn't remember where. It was at the tip of her tongue…maybe if she looked a little while longer and pretended to remember, as she did with a lot of people she met over the years. Sooner or later she would remember, or the lady would do something to introduce herself.

"Oh, I've been keeping busy," Estelle replied. "Right now looking over letters from the Conference…Beruna Conference." Maybe the lady was from the Conference? Had she seen her there?

"Ah, of course," the lady nodded. "I've heard the Conference mentioned before. How marvelous. Though surely that must occupy your mind quite often, yes? Very stressful, I'm sure."

"It is." Estelle agreed. "Hence why I'm here…my son insisted I take a break from poring over those reports all the time and get out to spend a day relaxing."

"Rilian, yes? Thoughtful man he is." The lady agreed. "You're lucky to have a son like him, I assure you."

"Well, thank you." Still, no names were coming to Estelle's mind. "So tell me what brings you to this place on such a day as this? Surely it's far from you home."

"I'm here on business, your majesty." The lady sat up straighter in the grass and tilted her head at Estelle, and Estelle felt momentarily uneasy in the lady's steady gaze. "Very important business, you see. Tell me, how far away are the rest of your people, your courtiers that you traveled with?"

Estelle's brow furrowed. "Not that far,"

"Is your son near here? Would he see anything, hear anything?"

"No, he's with the others, but…see what?"

"I wouldn't want him to."

"To what?"

The lady uncrossed her legs and stretched languorously in the sun. "I've been wanting to try this out for the longest time." She said. "Ever since I completed it. It took me, would you believe, a year and a half to develop the formula to do this? And I assure you, it wasn't easy. I had to calculate and recalculate so many times I thought I'd see equations in my sleep. And I couldn't test it on anyone, that's what made it even more difficult. I had no subject but myself, which I couldn't use either because what if I made a mistake? Then I'd be dead and nothing would be completed. But when it was finished…" she tilted her face towards the sun. "It worked, though I was unconscious for five days and couldn't fully move again for another two weeks while my central nervous system got used to the poison and accepted it as a natural part." She twisted a finger in the grass, pulling up several shoots and then flicking them back onto the ground. "Though you wouldn't know of what I speak. I'd have to show you, and I am thrilled to do so and see if this works as well as I hope it would."

"What are you talking about?"

"I studied," the lady replied gravely. "I studied very well. Did you know that Nirisath the naiad, formerly of Cair Paravel, had the best books on healing in the entire city? Most of what I know came from those. Ah, the lengths I had to go to get those books again! So much planning and trading…I had to trade Narnia countless rare herbs that I needed for the sole purpose of obtaining Nirisath's old books, the ones she left behind. But they were detrimental to everything I was planning."

"Nirisath…" there was one name that Estelle never forgot. She missed the old naiad who used to live in Cair. She spent much time in her younger days learning at least some healing from her, and had often shared much of her concerns and problems with her before. It was such a shame that Nirisath left. Cair Paravel was never the same without her. Especially since no one knew where she went after…after…her house was burned down, and she left in a fury, shouting something about otters and vanished-possibly-dead apprentices…

"Do I know you?" Estelle blinked at the strange lady. "I surely have seen you before. Wait…you…you were Nirisath's apprentice."

"A very long time ago," replied the lady distractedly. "She was such a wise naiad, wasn't she? There's much that can be learned from someone like that. It was terrible that she was driven out of Cair like that. Millie…I still remember that name! If Millie is still alive once I have finished what I will start, then she will be the first to die. Nay…" a smile came over her face. "The second."

Estelle felt cold, though the sun was still shining and it was high noon. "What do you want? I remember you left after her house burned down. Do you want to return to Cair Paravel? I'm sure I can find a place for you."

"A place?" the lady laughed. "I do not need your charity, your majesty, not ten years too late. Certainly you did not come to my aid those years ago, why start now? Ah well, it is no matter now, is it? It is too late for apologies and change." She waved her hand in the air. "Either way, I have not come all the way from Underland to talk about the past! What need is that?"

Now Estelle remembered, now the name came back to her. A funny foreign girl, years ago, named…ah, what was it, something with an S...who worked for Nirisath because she had blown up a building and had to pay for the damage in some way. She was a strange girl, a nervous, twitchy girl who jumped every time you spoke to her and never met anyone's eyes. There was a brief uproar because everyone claimed she was a witch, and Estelle even had her momentary doubts. It ended badly, as the people's reactions to the funny apprentice led to one of them…some radical that Estelle hadn't seen in just as many years…set fire to Nirisath's house. Estelle remembered that day sadly, for she hated to see the naiad go.

"Listen," Estelle said calmly. "I remember that. And I'm sorry, but…"

"Sorry! Didn't I say this was not time for apology? I don't want to hear it. I heard enough years ago, your majesty, and my interest has not grown since then." She stretched her legs out on the ground and rested her hands on her knees. "You have a very devoted son, I assure you. He would be willing to do anything for honor and respect of you, his royal mother. He showed me that years ago, and I am sure he hasn't changed since then. Well, now is the time to test that out, yes?"

"Test what out? Listen, I'll be more than willing to let you live in Cair again, if that's what you wish."

"Oh, I will," the lady nodded. "Live in Cair again. I had much taken from me years ago, your majesty…and I have come to claim all that again. I will tell you a little of it, merely because you look so lovely this afternoon, and I am so blessed to have the good luck to see you again on this fine day." She laughed again. "Though you may never have believed it yourself, I did love your son, my Rilian. You took that from me, when you ordered he could marry no one but a queen, but true royalty…that is what he told me, you know. He told me you forbid us to ever be together. You didn't care what would happen to me then, did you? What the consequences would be if I lost the only support I had in this world? You let them throw me out of Cair, you let them burn Nirisath's house down and come around with their words and call me witch…horrid witch, vicious witch! Do you remember what they said? I do. They said I was vile, just like the White Witch, come to enchant their prince and take over the kingdom. Isn't that quaint? I know, I know, you needn't try and say anything more. After all, I think it is a wonderful idea, don't you? I thought so too." She nodded and smiled at her own brilliance. "It would work just fine. After all, your son stood with me once…and now he will stand with me again, this time forever. I have studied many years and done enough experiments to know how to properly enchant someone. You remember."

Estelle shivered…she should run, right now, shout and call to the people over there that there was a madwoman in the glade with her. She remembered this woman now…the strange foreign girl had fallen in love with Rilian, or so she had claimed, or so he had claimed likewise…she remembered him deeply professing his love for the strange foreign girl when he was only seventeen, and refused to listen to their words of wisdom…he had grown up, and realized this mistake and his parent's wisdom, and when he proposed to Lady Sal, Estelle had wholeheartedly approved and was thankful he had gotten over that unfortunate incident. She hadn't even thought of what happened to that girl.

"I can tell you remember! I have seen that look in many eyes upon seeing me again since my quick departure from your city. I think that's lovely. Well, once I have properly enchanted your son, I will have him with me in my Underland…my kingdom, the one I have created all myself…it exists miles under the world, and no one in Narnia knows anything about it. I can tell that you don't, which is all the better! Which is why when I have finished my kingdom, I will order them to dig to the surface, and there I shall come with my great army…and take your world from you." She laughed again and clapped her hands together. "Isn't it ideal? I thought it was. But that aside! I am only telling you this as my one small mercy to you, for this…you deserve to know what is going to happen to your kingdom and your son before you die."

Estelle sat straight up. "Die? What in the Lion's name do you mean?"

"I've been wanting to try this out forever." She said excitedly. "After years of development, I want to know if I got it exactly right. Your majesty, you will know, as the poison will affect your central nervous system and cause death within minutes. And naturally, your son will rush to your side…and then no doubt come searching for whatever brought about your sudden and unfortunate death…well, I'm sure you can guess the rest. Now, let's get to business, shall we? I have been wanting to try this out, and you will be lucky…one of the first people in the modern world ever to see an enchantress who has successfully altered her starform. Granted, it will be the last thing you see, but it is still a high honor, your majesty."

Then the lady let her hands fall tight to her sides, and her eyes closed, half-lidded, and looked away from Estelle. Estelle made to stand up, but then…then…

She watched with horror as suddenly the lady's eyes closed altogether and her entire body trembled. Her arms were so tight to her sides that they seemed not to exist altogether…wait…no, they didn't exist, and neither did her legs, they were all melting together, and her impossibly green skirt stopped glimmering in the sun and now genuinely shone as it melted away into horrible green scales, the length of what was merely a skirt tapering off and now…twitching…living…

Estelle felt dizzy. Shapeshifting was impossible.

The lady…or what was once the lady, but now was only the largest snake that Estelle had ever seen…a snake that was thick and enormous, a brilliant terrible green that shone in the sunlight, and two eyes…eyes that, though they were yellow and awful, still held something reminiscent of the lady that the snake was. If you looked close enough, and this made it all the more horrible, you could see a sharp sentience in those flaming eyes, eyes of someone who knew exactly who they were and what they were doing.

The eyes fixed on Estelle.

Estelle wanted to scream, but her breath caught in her throat. She should call out for someone…she should stand up and run before this huge horrid snake did anything, but the yellow eyes held her in place and she couldn't tear her gaze away from them. Estelle's mouth opened but she couldn't form the words, and the snake…seeming to sense that…opened its mouth to show two fangs and a long, forked tongue that flickered in and out, tasting the air.

The snake uncoiled itself from the ground and raised its head, drawing closer to Estelle. Estelle tried again to scream, but she was shaking too much. The snake slithered closer, and Estelle threw out one hand to defend herself against the serpent…

She felt two sharp fangs connect with the back of her hand.

There was pain…oh, Lion's mane, there was so much pain, exploding in her hand and shooting up her arm and into her head, blinding her eyes and making her fall to the ground…and she found the scream she had been searching for, her cry shattering the silence in the glade.

She heard frantic noises, exclamations, other shouts to join her own. She opened her eyes and tried to hold her head up, but…but the pain was subsiding now, her hand numbing from where the snake had bitten her. Ah, it was such a relief, the horrible pain replaced with a soothing numbing sensation, creeping all across her body and calming the fire.

"Mother! Mother, what's wrong? What happened?" she heard Rilian's voice, frantic and panicked. "Mother…"

"Sire!" another voice shouted. "Sire, look!"

"I see it!" there was the sound of steel being drawn. "Stay with her!"

Estelle felt a hand take hers. "Hold on there, your majesty," she heard the soft voices of one of her ladies say. "The others are coming."

"Others…" Estelle heard her voice, though it didn't sound quite right. "No, no, where is my son…"

"He's gone after the snake," said another voice, a husky male voice she couldn't place. "Let me see your hand…"

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know."

"Look, she's been bitten…"

"Rilian went after the snake, it went off into the woods there, he's going to kill it no doubt…"

"And bring it back to us! That way we can determine the poison, from the snake's glands, if he brings us back the head…"

"How do _you _know that?"

"Someone told me once! I thought everyone knew it in the Shuddering Wood. There's all manners of snakes there."

Estelle heard people all around her, heard their chatter and felt their footsteps. There was someone pressing something cool to her forehead, there was someone else examining her hand, at least she assumed it was; she couldn't feel her hand anymore. She wanted to know who it was and tried to raise her head, but it felt too heavy and too weak and she didn't quite feel like it. Estelle's other hand twitched, too numb to do anything further. The numbness had stopped the horrible pain, but now it was all that existed…the numbness turned into a driving haze that crept through all her limbs, and her head, and her breath…she opened her mouth to speak to the lady closest to her but couldn't.

"Sire! Did you find it!"

"I couldn't! My mother, how is she? Mother, I'm here, speak to me." She heard Rilian's voice and felt the others being pushed aside as he dropped next to her, taking her good hand and worriedly lifting her face up so he could see it. She could see him, vaguely…she could see his concerned, terrified eyes and hear his voice, but it was muffled and far away.

Get away from here, Estelle wanted to say, but she couldn't say anything…it was too difficult to breathe and she couldn't find her voice. But she tried…she struggled against the numbness and the haze, her eyes fluttering frantically, the only thing she could still move easily. Get as far away from here as you can, my son…she has terrible plans for you…that girl, the one you knew once all those years ago…she's wanting horrible things, I don't know what she's done, but it will only hurt all of us…go to Archenland, she won't look for you there, but…stay here…and she'll take you as well as this entire land…

But she couldn't. She felt Rilian's hand brushing her hair back, and his voice telling her something, but she couldn't make out what he was saying…the words were too far away to catch, and Estelle couldn't hear…couldn't quite see very well either, but she knew he was still there and she had to warn him.

It was vitally important that she warn him. Who knew what harm could come if she didn't. It was the most important thing she ever had to do…please, my son, get out of here before she hurts you…

But she couldn't find the words…

* * *

The Queen's death was startlingly simple.

The king and queen were rulers of Narnia, yet they allowed the queen to ride with her people, unarmed, into a northern glade that was a relatively recent discovery. The people of Narnia so obviously thought that nothing in the world would harm them, and were willing to be lax in their security, it seemed.

Clearly, Sara had thought far more of the queen than the queen actually was. Well, that was done now. The queen, for all her high and mighty status, could be killed just as easy as anyone else.

That was wonderful…it was just as intoxicating as the power of enchanting the Underland. The high exalted queen who had one looked down at Sara, her eyebrows coming together in confusion at the foreigner…seeing her eyes wide in terror, her hand at her throat as she turned whiter than snow and looked as she would have died of fright even if Sara had not done anything. And the death itself…oh, was that marvelous! All it took was a single bite, the impression of two fangs on the queen's delicate hand, and the poison worked. It was well worth all the time and effort it took to create that poison. It worked quickly. It took but five minutes before the poison numbed her entire body, then paralyzed her lungs then working its way to her heart and causing death within minutes. And so the queen had died without even delivering her message. It had been delightful to see the queen fail to do so, and die with that upon her conscience…that she didn't even have the strength to fight the poison and warn her own son.

She hadn't moved a muscle when the queen died, remaining in the grass unseen. She didn't want to move for fear that she would show her own excitement. She could bring down royalty! A mere one-time Mayharran student, a common girl, could take the lives of royalty as easily as one stepped on a spider that crossed their path. Such terror! Such success! And she did it all herself.

If this was what the White Witch had ever felt, when she stood in her castle on one of those high parapets that had long since fallen…then Sara could understand why she would hold Narnia in a hundred years of winter. Such power…it was a hundred times greater than the success of healing someone. When you healed someone, they merely thanked you and went on their way. But when you had power…if you could dream it, you could create it. It was the sort of thing that allowed someone to make something out of nothing, that let schoolgirls to become witches and to become queens. It was brilliant, fascinating, and intoxicating…and perhaps death was the same way, the sheer power of taking one person's life and throwing it away as if it meant nothing, and watching…watching steadily…how the ripples caused by one death spread out across the world to affect everything in it.

It was a simple thing. But it made so much happen.

Sara returned to Harfang in such a good mood that even the giants were confused. She helped them prepare their dinner…a Tapir they had caught wandering too far away from the Narnian border and into Ettinsmoor. The Tapir violently protested, backing into a corner and informing the giants how they would absolutely hate eating him, how he would disagree with all of them…Sara had found him, and he thought to appeal to her…but she had killed him in an instant with only the briefest throw of a dark purple powder she had made…a more portable form of her poison, one she could use in her human form to cause the same death. The Tapir had convulsed for only a moment before collapsing, its legs twitching in the aftereffect of the death, and the giants had happily thanked her and went about cooking the rest of the dinner.

Sara never ate Talking Beast herself, but let the giants do as they pleased. She sat with them that day, at the head with the king and queen, just as she used to, and listened to their stories and shared some of their own. After that she had even played some music for them with a lovely mandolin that she had traded for about a year or so earlier. Her skills were rusty and it would take awhile to get into practice again, but she was feeling so good that day that she leaned back in the chair and remembered a rousing ballad from years ago and had played it for them, and combined with a giant on the flute and another on the sither who managed to pick up at least the refrain of her melody, it made a lovely celebration. The giants danced and laughed and the party lasted well into the night until they were all too tired or drunk to go any further. Sara retired late that night, and slept a deep sleep without dreams.

The next day, she ordered Mag, a cousin of the departed Talfa, to stand watch at the borders near the glade, far enough not to be seen but close enough to give her a report the moment something happened. She had several birds that nested in the reaches of Harfang…a little over a year ago she had enchanted several of them to be her messengers, and sent one of those with Mag. The moment someone appeared in the glade, Mag would send the bird back, and Sara would know to come. It was all according to the plan, which thus far was going ideally. The queen was dead, and Sara's changed starform had proved ten times more liberating and practical than she had thought. After all, witches were terribly practical people.

She saw Mag off, bowing to the giant as he stomped off across the rocky landscape towards the glade where she had shown him. It had already begun. Now all she had to do was wait.

* * *

The bird flapped to a stop and landed on the perch, pecking at the birdseed left out. Sara held out her hand, and the bird ignored it, too intent on the birdseed. Sighing, Sara reached out and took instead a small dead mouse. Now the bird's head came up, its small beady eyes staring hungrily at the mouse which would satisfy the raptor better than the meager amount of seed put out.

"Come here now,"

The bird took several hops before taking off and landing on the armrest of the chair in front of the fire. It reached out for the mouse, but Sara held it away.

"First, bring me your news."

The bird dipped its head and squawked. Sara waited, holding the mouse just far enough away where it couldn't reach it.

"Come on, or I'll throw this…" she held the mouse up by its tail. "Into the fire."

The bird's eyes followed it and then finally it shifted its feathers, and opened its beak.

"There's the person you've been wanting, lady," Mag's voice rang through the room. "The funny little man from Narnia. He's been at the glade yesterday and I saw him again today." It wasn't the bird speaking, but Sara had spelled the bird so that Mag would speak to it, and the bird would carry Mag's message within its spelled feathers.

Sara smiled and ran her finger down the bird's head. "Good job," she said soothingly. "It must be irritating, I'm sure, to always be carrying a spell on your person."

The bird chattered in response, though it didn't know what she was saying.

"Very well. You have done your job. Here." She threw the mouse high into the air, and the raptor launched itself after it, catching the mouse before it struck the floor, and then proceeding to tear it into bloody pieces.

Sara stood up, pushing the chair away from the fire. All was going according to plan. Drawn by his mother's death, Rilian would return to the glade again in an attempt to find the creature and kill it. It was a thankless task, of course…murdering an animal wasn't revenge, and it solved nothing, just the elimination of a deadly animal. It wouldn't bring back the queen. But she knew Rilian, and knew at least in his eyes he would be killing a murderous beast, and would bring back the body to show what had been the death of the queen. It wouldn't assuage his grief…she knew that too well. But it would at least provide closure, something she knew he desperately needed. Everyone did when they saw their loved ones fall.

It drew him back to the glade already. Sara smiled as she crossed the room and pulled on her traveling cloak and tied her hair back.

"Janile," she called. Though she spoke quietly, she had spelled most of the castle to carry her voice to whoever she called for. It was useful, though it had taken awhile to do that.

"Yes, lady?" Janile opened the door and bowed.

"I have received word from Mag. I'm leaving immediately. You have your orders."

Janile nodded. "I'll just go ready your horse?"

"That would be lovely, Janile, if you would."

The horse was readied, and Sara mounted the skittish palomino. This creature was young and full of energy, exactly what she needed for the quick ride to the glade. It wouldn't be immediate, but she knew he would come back. She nodded to Janile and then kicked the horse hard in the sides, sending it galloping out of the stable and across the rocky ground.

* * *

Midafternoon, that's when the snake had been there last, that's when the cursed creature would come back.

"I still don't know what this will accomplish," said the guard Toire, running his hand through his dark beard, spattered now with gray. "Sire, I'd suggest you give up this task. I know why, but it is only an animal…"

"Only an animal!" spat Rilian, with one foot in the horse's stirrup and his hand on its saddle. "I don't care if it's an animal, Toire, I don't care if it's mindless or sentient, haven't I told you? I just want to see it dead. I'm going to bring its head back to Cair Paravel and mount it in the great hall itself. That way it'll never harm anyone again, the accursed creature." He pulled himself onto the horse and jerked on the reigns. The horse backed up nervously, used to being handled with greater care than the furious prince's sharp movements.

"Careful with that horse now," Toire held a hand out and touched the horse's nose, calming it down. Toire always had a way with horses. "And you too, Rilian,"

"I am careful," he replied, not looking at Toire and gathering the horse's reigns in his hands. "Nothing's going to happen. I'm only going to find the accursed creature and see it harms no one else. You have my word on that. I'll find it, and I'll be the one to kill it, mark my words. Then my mother will rest easy, knowing that."

"Rilian…" Toire warned. "It's only an animal. It's wrong to put so much on a mindless animal, sire, no matter what it did. Your mother…"

"Was trying to tell me something!" He turned the horse around, and it whinnied in protest at the bit in its mouth being pulled against its sensitive gums. "Lion's mane, Toire, you weren't there, don't think you can tell me what _mindless animal_ it was. There was something to it, I'm sure of it. You didn't see her. She was trying to tell me something, she was struggling against death itself to say…whatever she wanted to say…it had to be important if she was struggling that much, Toire. But I couldn't save her! It's the least I can do to kill the cursed snake and hold its head in my hands, as I should have done in the first place."

"It's not your fault. We've been through this before, I told you. So has everyone else…"

But Rilian wasn't listening. He pulled hard on the reins, pulling the horse's head out of Toire's calm hands. He kicked the horse's sides, hard, and went galloping down the main path.

"Open the gates!" Toire shouted. "Hurry up, now!" Rilian hadn't even thought to give those orders before he went riding out. Hurriedly, the guards pulled the gates opened and stepped aside as his horse ran out of the castle and through the city streets.

The people got out of the way as Rilian rode through the city and out the main gates, the hooves of his horse striking the grassy land outside of Cair Paravel.

It was useless trying to explain it to Toire. What did that man understand? He didn't see the queen like that. He didn't see her paralyzed, her eyes the only thing that still moved…looking frantically from side to side in panic as her eyelids fluttered and she knew she was going to die. He didn't feel her hand, numb and cold as she squeezed his in an attempt to get him to understand the urgency of her lost message. He didn't hear her voice, or what little she could manage to use, as she struggled against death itself to tell him something. She never said what she wanted to and died, helpless against the poison.

He couldn't do anything to stop it.

He had seen the snake slithering off into the bushes, a horrible green thing that he couldn't catch. And the poison had worked too quickly, before he or anyone else could find something to stop the flow. It was too late, it all went too fast. Ten minutes it had been, only ten minutes before she died.

She was supposed to be invincible.

Everyone's parents were, but…but her especially. Rilian had seen her stay out all night in the coldest of weathers if just to talk to several seals who lived in the cold northern oceans and could only arrive in Cair during the deepest part of winter. He had seen her smooth ruffled feathers of both people and birds, calm down a pair of dwarves once that practically had their axes at each other's throats…she could do anything. She'd never die. Or if she was going to die at all, it would be far in the future, when she was so old that her hair was white as snow and she was sick, having lived a full and wonderful life, in bed, surrounded by family.

But not _now, _and not this way…not killed by a strange poisonous snake, trembling as the poison claimed her entire body, frantically grabbing her son's hand in fear of her message…whatever it was…being lost before she could warn him of something, whatever it was.

She wasn't supposed to die.

She wasn't supposed to die like _that_. He should have been able to do something, he should have been able to save her…after all, what use was it to be the prince of Narnia if he couldn't even save his mother? He never felt so helpless, so useless in the face of danger. It was entirely his fault. If he hadn't insisted that she take a break from her reports and come to the glade that day for a picnic, she'd still be alive. Stressed, of course, but alive. He had kept on insisting, and she came…he had led her to her death! And there was nothing he could do about it now.

The least he could do was kill the snake that had been the cause of this. It wouldn't do anything, Toire kept saying. And Rilian knew he was right. It wouldn't bring his mother back, or even put her soul to peace…only Aslan could do that. But at least it would be something tactile, to see the snake bleeding out on the grass and thrashing with its head cut off, never to harm anyone again.

He reached the glade and pulled the horse to a canter. There was nothing there today, as there was nothing there yesterday or the day before. But the snake had to live around here, or else it wouldn't come here. Snakes weren't the types to travel far, were they? He didn't know; he didn't make a habit of studying the creatures, and didn't care. It was only this one he was after.

No, he'd have to go further than the glade. There hadn't been anything here…it had to be past that. The snake had to live somewhere around here, didn't it? Not many choices, not many places for a snake to live, but oh well…

He forced the horse on ahead, though the animal was already tired. Rilian knew he shouldn't be pushing horses like this…it was dangerous for the horses, and that sort of behavior was completely out of line for a future king of Narnia. But at this point it didn't matter…he'd apologize to these horses, even though they couldn't speak, and to all the Horses who would hear about it for this and make amends for it. Right now there were more important things to do.

The horse broke through the grass and onto open moorland. There was still grass, flat grassland that would soon be marshy in some parts, down near where the Wiggles lived. Here it was dry, but very flat…it stretched off into the distance where eventually the ground would turn hard and rocky. But for now it still provided cover for a snake of some sort. Not much, but something, wasn't it? Had to be something. He had to find something. Just keep riding and sooner or later something would show up, he told himself. Though it was more an excuse to ride out all day, on the flat moors, filled with a dull monotony that distracted a person from the real problems at hand. The flat landscape provided little to think about, and led him into a somewhat distracted state…an excuse to stop thinking about how much it was his fault that she died, and…and to try and turn his mind from the look in her eyes and her dying struggle, the look that wouldn't leave him alone, no matter what he did. The healer assured him not to worry, it was natural for this sort of thing to happen when someone was grieving. Was it natural, then, to stay awake all night and stare out the window, for fear that the moment he closed his eyes, he would hear his mother's voice again, struggling to deliver that mysterious message? Surely that couldn't be natural.

The moors were warm this time of year, even this far north. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, searching for a hole of some sort that a snake might live in. Then his horse skidded to an abrupt stop, its hooves throwing up grass and loose dirt as it tried to stop itself.

"Cursed animal! I didn't tell you to stop!" he shouted at the horse.

"Actually, that was rather intelligent of it, as I'm sure you wouldn't want to run into my horse and be thrown from your own. The moorland isn't very forgiving when it comes to people falling on the ground."

Rilian looked up from the ground. There was a woman on a horse…a nice horse, a well-groomed palomino that kept its head down, and when it looked up…it seemed to have a funny look in its eyes, at least for a horse…but for the most part, it was a nice horse. The lady was wearing a long green dress and holding the reins in a very self-possessed way.

"Good afternoon," the lady said.

"Same to you. Sorry if I almost ran into your horse. I'm looking for something."

"I can see that. Though you really should look where you're going."

"Yes. Sorry." He pulled the horse around, and the horse protested, its flanks heaving in exhaustion from the long and intense ride. "Sorry to you, too," he added, rubbing the horse's sweaty neck. It shook its head and tossed its mane. "I shouldn't be doing that to you. Don't worry. When we get back, I'll have the stable boy give you all the finest grain there is today, how's that?"

The horse couldn't talk, but it twitched its tail in acknowledgement of the prince's words.

"Is it a Talking Horse?" asked the lady.

"No. We don't generally ride Talking Horses. Why, is that?"

She laughed. "Gods, no! There aren't any Horses up where I live. They know better than to venture this far."

"And how far do you live?" Rilian wasn't interested, but was trained from birth to be polite to any woman, even if they were at the moment distracting him from the task at hand.

"You forget me again? I'm disappointed in you." She replied. "And I even wore green so you would recognize me."

Rilian frowned. He knew this woman, it would just take him a moment.

"Ah…yes, I know, I'm sorry. Sara, right? Do you still go by that?"

The woman smiled. "Of course I do, among other things. I was afraid you'd forgotten me entirely, and after all the time we used to spend together! I'd be horribly disappointed."

"I'm sorry, Sara. Of course I remember you." She was hard to forget, and he did remember her. He just hadn't given her much thought, despite the fact that she was, what, the lady of a minor duchy. But the last time she had been in Cair Paravel it had all gone quiet badly…she had become such a strange woman, completely different from the girl he knew. She had killed a Shrew, a helpless animal, and then all she had done was throw on her cloak and leave, not even bothering to tell anyone what she had done, leaving him with a dead Shrew and nothing further. It was a cold-blooded murder, something he never would have imagined her being capable of. And the Shrew…he really had no idea why he did it, it would have been much easier just to tell his father that it was that lady from Harfang who did it, instead of making up some rubbish excuse about kitchen knives and an unfortunate accident. It was horrifying, and he didn't know why he bothered to stand up…maybe he felt bad, on some level, for everything that had happened and this was the only vague way he could think to make up for it.

He really had to tell her that. There was a lot he still wanted to tell her, and always said he was going to write it all out in a letter and send it to Harfang, but he kept finding excuses for not doing it, for putting it off another day or on some days deciding not to do it altogether. Too many unsaid things, too many loose ends. He hated that, and it was easier not to think about those loose ends than to actually act on them.

"This is just a bit of a surprise. I wasn't expecting you here…what are you doing here?" It was almost surreal to see her here. She was the last person he had been expecting on these moors.

"Actually, I think that's the question I should be asking you."

"What do you mean?"

"What you're doing out here. You're not in Narnia anymore…you're now officially on Ettinsmoor territory. I'd show you a map, except I don't regularly take maps around with me. Point being, you're not in your country anymore."

Rilian turned around, seeing the glade far behind him. That was the border, wasn't it? He hardly paid attention to the maps. No one came up this way, therefore there wasn't really a reason to know it. He hadn't any intention to go into Ettinsmoor, the wild lands of the north, as they were called.

"Ah…you're right. I didn't know your lands came this close to Narnia's. Ettinsmoor is yours, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Well, then, I didn't mean to come here. I'm sorry."

"You should..." she sighed. "Listen, I told you that if you ever needed to come to Harfang you were more than welcome. If you wanted to come onto this territory at all, just let me know and you'll have free reign. But you have to let me know first. Otherwise…" she indicated the flat area all around them. "Some of my giants _do _enjoy going this far south, and being that this is technically their territory, they can do what they want here. I don't want you riding out here and having one of them decide, oh how delicious, it's one of those people, I rather like people…next thing you know, they'll eat you and your horse, and we'll have a war on our hands. I don't particularly want a war between Narnia and Ettinsmoor to start that way."

"Narnia isn't exactly ready for a war right now, Sara, so I don't think it would matter. Still, I have no desire to be eaten by a giant."

"Then it's a good thing I found you…Mag, he's around here somewhere…he came down here for something, can't remember what he told me, though. But he's not very good in self-restraint, odds are you'd have been eaten by now."

"Well, thank you."

She laughed. "Always welcome. Now, what are you doing out on my territory?"

"I'm just looking for something. I'll leave now, if you want."

"No! Certainly not." She guided her horse up so it was beside his. "You can stay as long as you want, I'd never chase you off my territory. I'm just curious as to why you'd come and not tell me."

"It's…a bit of an odd story." He didn't want to tell anyone, much less this woman he hadn't seen in years. He didn't want anyone to ride with him…he was here alone, and felt slightly annoyed that someone was intruding on his personal quest.

"Well, if I can be of any assistance to this…odd story?"

"It's nothing, Sara, don't worry about it." He felt bad about being rude to her, but right now didn't want anyone here. It was preferable to be alone. Toire offered to come a few days ago and he refused, same with Stalis. "I'm surprised to see you. It's been awhile."

"Four years," she agreed. "I know. Still, it's nice to see you again. I'm…" she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For your mother. I heard." She frowned, and looked genuinely sad. "We are somewhat informed in Harfang…word reaches us, though granted it takes some time. Still, this I heard…when it comes to neighboring lands, the news _does _travel fast. I was actually coming to Narnia to find you. I want to give you my sympathies." She lay a hand on his arm. It was slightly awkward, reaching across the horse like that, but she made it somehow graceful. "I'm sorry it had to happen. I know she was your mother and you cared for her greatly. I regret that nothing could have been done to prevent it."

He pulled his arm away. He didn't want anyone's sympathies, especially someone he hadn't seen in years.

"I know what it's like to lose family…at least, indirectly."

He turned to look at her. She really did look concerned. Her eyes were half lidded, and she had her other hand twisted in the horse's mane, lost seemingly in her own memories.

"How many years has it been?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she raised her head back at him, and she really did have lovely green eyes, albeit they seemed a bit more…strange…than he remembered.

"How many years has passed in your world by now?"

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. "I see you do remember me. I'm glad. Well, it's…it's been awhile, at home…it's been a very…very long time. But that's not important. I'm still curious as to why you're out here."

"There's…" he sighed. "She was bitten by a snake, an enormous, horrible green thing, in that…that glade back there. I'm looking for it."

"What are you going to do once you find it?"

"I'm going to kill it and bring the head back to Cair Paravel." He spat. "It won't do anything, I know…it's only a damn snake, not even a Talking Snake at that, if such things exist. But it's something. It's all I can do…which isn't much."

"I'm sorry for that, too," she replied, her voice soft. "I wish there was something I could do."

"There's nothing anyone can do, Sara. It's my fault. But…just forget it. It's nothing." He pulled on the reins again, intent to go back to the glade and get away from here.

"It's not your fault, I'm sure. I know you, Rilian, you'd never do anything to harm anyone."

"No, no, there's…" He kicked the horse in frustrating. "Curse it all, Sara, this whole thing is my fault. I insisted she come to the glade that day. She was so busy worrying over some Conference nonsense, I hated seeing her so stressed, everyone did! And I had to go and say, come on, let's go for a picnic! And she came, so did everyone…and of all the damn people who came, any one of them could have been bitten by the bloody snake, but no…it was my fault, I had her come out here. This whole damn thing is my fault!" Oh, Aslan, why couldn't she go away now. He turned away, closing his eyes, feeling tears burn at the corners. Princes didn't cry in public, especially not in front of women. Still. It was his fault, and he'd do anything to change that. Go away, damn you, why was she still here? He took a deep breath and held the reins tighter in his hands, as if that would change anything. Nothing.

"Oh, Rilian," her voice was soft, and he felt her hand on his shoulder. "The gods know it's not your fault." There was something else to her voice that he couldn't quite place, and didn't think to try. "I know what it's like to lose family. My parents have been dead at least fifty years, and the last time I saw them was when they were threatening to ground me after school one day. At least…be glad at least she saw you, and you saw her."

"She was trying to tell me something." He said hoarsely. "I don't know what she wanted to say. I'll never know. It was my fault…I should have gotten there sooner…"

"The poison had paralyzed her lungs by that point. Even if you got there sooner, she couldn't have told you. It's not your fault."

"I…" his head came up. "How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"Lung…paralysis."

"Oh! Oh, well, I…it's…used to be a healer, you remember. I had to study things like that." For a moment it seemed like she stammered, but she covered that up. "But you…you must know it's not your fault. I'd explain more if I could, but…can't seem to think of the right thing to say. I think I'm notorious for that."

"It's fine." He shook his head. "There's nothing you can do,"

"I know. But…here, let me at least help you look for that snake. I know it's not much, but…but if there's a dangerous snake, I want to know about it too, keep it off my territory so it doesn't hurt any of my people. But…I know…how it is to lose someone. At least let me help you there."

"I don't think there's anything you can do."

"I can help you look."

He looked back at her. She was lovely, really, and looked like she was doing very well, all things considered. Harfang suited her. This whole northern land seemed to. Perhaps it would be nice to have company. Sal…oh, Sal had been with him at the funeral, but all of her family was still alive. She never lost someone that close to her. At least…it couldn't hurt to enlist Sara's help, at least for now. She had lost her entire family…and friends…and pretty much everything, and was living alone in a northern castle filled with giants.

"I could use a little help, I suppose."

She smiled. "Don't worry. I'll be more than glad to assist." She tugged on the reins, and the horse moved a little further away. "I suppose you know more about this snake than I do."

"Then let's see if we can find it."

* * *

And so it went, nearly every day for a month, save for some weekends. He rode back and together they rode out across the moors, searching for the mysterious serpent. Sara had done her best to make it seem like there was…leaving traces of a snake about, a mark here, an indent here, a few loose scales and shed bits of skin here and there. It was enough to keep him around and coming back all that time. It had worked well. And those were glorious days, though she would drop her eyes and look away when she herself came too close to mentioning any of her work. Even worse when he asked her about snakes…he remembered she used to be able to transform into one, but thankfully all he remembered was her old form, a harmless small green snake.

"I suppose that's how you know so much about this one," he was saying, the latest day. It had been a hard ride out in the direction of the gorge…she had shown him where the wild giants lived. He looked interested…there was something rare, and she felt proud of _that. _He rarely looked interested in anything in the month since his mother died. His face had taken on that faraway distant look, the look of one who really knows loss and who believes they'll live the rest of their lives with it and never be able to think of anything else. Sara remembered. She hadn't cared for anything once she knew she was never going to see anyone from her world again. It was so strange seeing that same emotion reflected in his face, and to hear his voice…lifeless, it was…when he looked that way.

She had taken him to the gorge when he asked what she had done to the wild giants. He knew about Harfang from what she had told him before, but nothing of the wild giants. So they rode to the gorge, seeing the huge, stupid creatures scratch their heads and looked puzzled at their approach. With anyone else, the giants would no doubt take some notice, but Sara had put a shield around them both to keep the wild giants from seeing them and attempting to throw anyone at them. And he had been interested…for she knew he took a greater interest in things in Narnia, odd things, than his father did…and had even tried to see how close he could ride to them while the shield kept them hidden. It was marvelous, no matter the pretenses.

She insisted they have lunch in a nice area further from the gorge near some rocky overhangs that served to keep out the late afternoon sun. In the beginning he had refused, but in the last week or so he had taken to the brief lunch breaks, stopping for a moment in the search. She had a feeling that perhaps he was as glad for the distraction as she was. She was just mostly glad for the delay. He was still staying with her.

"Yes." She replied, trying to keep her replies on that to a minimum. If that's all he remembered, that was ideal. "I'm familiar with what snakes are capable of doing. But I don't know very much about _this _one." Here was another time she looked away. "The snakes like that, huge poisonous things, they had that in the far south back at home. I've never actually seen one. It was strictly forbidden for any of us to travel to the southern jungles to look. Sacrilege, it was. Srinia was our goddess. She was mine, too, my stars…only a benevolent green snake. I don't know much about the other kind."

"Just that they are poisonous."

"Of course. It's to be expected in something that big and unnatural." She nodded. "I can post watches, if you want. I have several birds back at Harfang that I use to carry messages…I can have them posted out and looking. If they see a snake of any kind, they'll tell me…or I can have them tell you."

Rilian sighed. "I don't think that will be necessary."

"Why not?" she sat up, smoothing out the lines in her skirt. "Do you have another idea?"

"I don't…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm beginning to see how hopeless a task this is. Lord Drinian is right. He told me not to bother, it's not a proper task to seek out and kill a snake that can't even properly think for itself. It's not a Talking Beast, and it's not a man…it is only my mother's murderer, but it doesn't even know itself as such." He shook his head. "I just don't listen to Drinian as much as I should. But he's right. This…this is pointless. I'm not accomplishing anything, riding out here searching for this snake."

"But you never know," Sara insisted. "There still might be something. I've been looking as well, but…it is a difficult task, after all."

"I know. I thought I'd be able to do something." He put his head back against the rocks. "Can't find anything. I'm…I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"It's just too much. Riding out here every day. Not…it's nothing against you, Sara, to be quite honest I have missed seeing you around these parts. But it's just, it's exhausting the horses and myself and I can't keep this up. Especially when I'm finding nothing."

"Well, it…you're not giving up, are you?" Sara asked.

"I…well, if you put it that way." Rilian sighed. "I'm just not finding anything. I'm sorry. Thank you for all your help, Sara, really."

"So you're going now?"

He stood up. "I'm going to head home. Listen, you can come with me if you want. We'd all be glad for the company right now."

"And then you're not going to come here to search anymore."

"I can't find anything. I can't keep doing this." He gave a helpless shrug.

Sara stood slowly. "If you come back here again, I am sure you'll find something. If you don't…well…you never will, right?"

"I suppose. Maybe in a few days I will, maybe I'll send someone else out…there's plenty of Birds who will be willing. And you offered your birds, too, and I'd be glad for the help."

He walked to the horse and got up on it, waiting for her to do the same.

Sara closed her eyes. She knew this was going to happen sooner or later. It was a pointless task, when it all came down to it. Only a fool would keep it up for more than a month when the results led over and over again to nothing.

Still. She knew it would come to this.

Sara mounted her horse and guided it around to his. "Well, I thank you for giving me this chance," she said. "I'm glad I was able to at least help you this little bit, though it didn't come to anything. I'll ride back with you."

The ride back was pleasant, though mostly filled with small talk. She could see the defeat in all of his gestures, the sense of giving up after so much determination. He had been so wanting to do this, and having it come to nothing…she knew he hated that, giving up on something. He always felt he had to prove himself once he set out to do something, and here he hadn't come to anything. It wasn't failure but…she knew him, knew he was afraid of not making an impact on the world when his father had made such a grand one.

They shared that same fear, she thought sadly. Fear of being forgotten, of being left behind while the world moved on ahead without them.

She knew he feared more…and she wanted to know. She wanted to know everything still, all of his fears, his loves, all the things he enjoyed and hated, everything and anything there was to know about him. She wanted to him stay with her and understand that they were still destined to be together no matter what. They had so much in common even now, she insisted…it was only natural that they stay together. It was the only right thing in the world to happen.

They reached the border, and Sara pulled her horse to a stop.

"What is it?" Rilian asked, doing the same with his horse so they were near to each other.

"I'm sorry. You go back…I've just remembered there's something I have to take care of."

"And you don't seem to want to go back to the city," he added.

She smiled. "You still know me."

"I just figured. Listen, thank you for all your help. Even if it really…didn't accomplish anything…it was nice to have the help anyway. I'll write, and this time I mean it. Come back to Cair sometime…everyone is curious as to what happened to Harfang, as we hardly hear from it except for trade."

She leaned forward on her horse. He really was leaving now. This is what he always did…promise the world and then leave, spend all that time remembering, watching everything fall back into the same pattern it had years ago, and then he left. Now he'd return to his city and hardly speak to her anymore while he stayed and grieved for his mother, where he'd eventually marry Lady Sal and forget all about her.

She couldn't let that happen.

Was it at all possible for someone given to evil to love? Could an evil enchantress still care about someone to the point where they would give up the world only to help that person, to show them that yes…I do care about you, and I know you, and all that you are, and that it doesn't matter?

Moral questions never bothered Sara's mind anymore. She didn't give them much thought. All she knew was, yes…yes, she still loved him and would do anything for him, no matter what happened or what the world said.

Now she was going to lose him again.

He was about to turn the horse around and go back to Cair Paravel, leaving her once again on the border of the two territories. He would leave her…and…she couldn't stand that. She couldn't lose him again. Not after all she had done. She loved him too much for that.

It would start small. Madness was not an easy thing to create. It was like building a kingdom, one must start small and create it gradually, one must slowly build something that would take years to finish, and when the time was right it would exist…forever…

"Rilian,"

"What?"

He turned around, and Sara raised both of her hands. Their faces were closer now, not even a horse length apart…a foot, really, maybe a little more. She raised her hands to his level…and blew.

A cloud of green powder drifted through the air, across the small gap between the two people. Rilian's eyes widened in surprise and he breathed…not much, but…but it was enough. Sara lowered her hands. The powder sparkled around his face, and he breathed in more of it as he became more confused in wondering what it was. Soon all the powder had disappeared.

Sara whispered two words into the warm summer air.

The affects were immediate. Rilian's eyes slid out of focus, and his tight grip on the reins slackened. He looked side to side, bewildered, as if he couldn't remember where he was or what he was doing.

"Rilian," she spoke his name, clearly.

He looked at her. That was all that existed in his eyes…her voice saying his name. He blinked slowly, knowing on some level that something was wrong…but as the seconds wore on, even that became distant.

"Yes?" he said, his voice soft and distant.

"You will return here tomorrow," Sara said. "You will come back to me tomorrow, in this very place, at the border between Narnia and Ettinsmoor, in this glade. You will ride out here and wait for me here. And when I am there, then you will get down off your horse, and come to me."

He blinked again. His head hung slightly down as he tried to process this information…as this information reverberated itself over and over again until that was all there was.

"I will return here tomorrow," he repeated.

"Yes."

"I will wait for you."

"Yes."

"And I will…"

She held out her hand. "And you will come to me."

Without realizing just why he was doing it, he placed his hand in hers. "And I will come to you."

She curled her fingers around his hand, rough from being a Narnian prince, who unlike the princes of other worlds would work, and live, and be just as much one of the people as their ruler. She brought his hand to her lips.

"Then go home, my dear," she whispered. "And I will see you tomorrow."

"Yes," he agreed. "I will return tomorrow."

She sat straight up on the saddle and watched him ride back through the glade and into Narnia.

Sara knew from this moment onward that there would be no turning back.

Whatever dark and shadowed path she had set them on, they were both condemned to follow it to the bitter end.


	23. Chapter 23

((As ever, thank you

So I had fun writing this chapter. Yay for that))

There were times where Rilian was absolutely sure he must be going mad.

He had a purpose…he knew it…at least he thought he did, originally, a reason for riding out to that glade each day. He had been looking for something, hadn't he? And it was something important, something so important that he went every day solely for the purpose of looking for it. Something was going to happen once he found it, too, but what…he didn't know.

There were times he wasn't even sure where he was anymore. Cair Paravel…he knew that much. He knew where Cair Paravel was, and he knew the people in it…he could see his family and friends and spoke with them, but it hardly felt like he was speaking at all, just that someone else was, someone who had his voice and his mind.

It seemed he hardly existed except for the afternoon. He would ride out to the glade, again looking…and that was the only time he knew.

He knew because she was there.

She surely had to be the fairest and most beautiful thing ever made. Nothing in Narnia could compare, nothing in this world or any of the other worlds he heard of could possibly be quite like this lady. She was stunning, seeming to come out of nowhere…no doubt some skill that only she had…and her hair shone in the sunlight, and she wore a dress of the most spectacular green…even the plants all around the glade seemed to lose their color in comparison to the brilliance of her dress.

This had to be madness, but if it was, it was the most beautiful madness he had ever seen.

She would talk to him, but only sometimes, only when he had waited for hours to hear her voice. Her voice was just as lovely as she was…it was light and clear as the coldest mountain spring, and her laugh sounded like finely tuned bells ringing together in harmony. He would wait all day if just to hear that laugh, that voice…

It would be the death of him. It turned him from…whatever purpose it was that he had initially, living only for the moment, only for the briefest second where he could hear her voice and her laugh. It was there where he supposed his mind was clearest. She would say his name, and he would know beyond a doubt exactly who he was. She seemed to hold his identity, and he would only truly know who he was when she was there.

He still knew there was a purpose of some sort, something he had to do. But it was all lost now.

Rilian lived his days in a dreamy haze that left him at a loss for everything else. He only thought of those afternoons when he would spend time with the lady in the glade, and nothing else mattered. Oh, there were plenty of other things, surely, but…but they weren't important. Court meetings and a constant parade of politics and rules and all that sort of thing, that was hardly interesting anymore.

She promised him one day to come to these meetings with him.

She promised…

She promised so much it made his head spin. He couldn't remember half the things she said, only that they were wonderful, sweet things, and the moon and the stars resonated in response to her words, that entire countries stepped aside for her words when she spoke. He told her this, but she only smiled. He knew he was only a man in her presence and his words meant little. She was the only one with words that mattered, she was a goddess among mortals, the fairest thing ever to exist in Narnia.

It left no room for purpose. It left no room for thoughts or grief.

There had been such grief before this, he remembered. There was such pain, such sadness that left him weary every night and desperate for sleep that would never come. He had always been drained, struggling just to make it through another day when something so important had been taken from his life and he could not understand how to live without it. The grief had done nothing but eat at his soul until he was sure nothing else existed but that, but a weary, bitter sadness, and a terrible feeling of guilt and helplessness.

And he had grieved so much, and wondered if this sadness would exist forever…just when he wondered if he should finally give himself over to that terrible guilt, she had lay the back of her hand on his cheek.

He remembered her voice that day.

"Don't grieve," she had said. "Don't feel guilt for this, my dear. It's nothing of your fault, so I don't want you thinking anymore that it is. Don't be sad, don't worry about this anymore. It's all over. Don't think anymore of your foolish quest."

It was like the finest wine he had ever tasted, those words. The grief was gone then, vanished just as suddenly as smoke blown out the window. The horrible guilt and sadness that had haunted his soul was lifted, disappearing in the afternoon light as if it had never been. It was such a wondrous feeling, to live without that guilt, without that pressure and sadness from…from whatever it was that had been causing him that. He looked at the lady then, and had gone to take her hand and thank her profusely, but she had taken her own hand away from his cheek and bowed, ever so slightly, saying that she had to leave him now, and would come back tomorrow, and if he would like to accompany her tomorrow on a brief walk among the series of glades at this time?

Of course, he said. I'll follow you anywhere.

She had only smiled at this.

Surely this was madness. It had to be, when he walked through the gardens at Cair Paravel and it took him several moments before he remembered where he was. It had to be when he hardly slept at night, only sat out on the balcony with the moon in his hair and was sure that there had to be something more than this, when he felt so strangely restless and it was only on those afternoons that he felt content and at peace with himself. It had to be…

Did anyone else notice? He didn't care. His father was too busy to notice, too busy running around and trying to rule the country while at the same time trying to get over the sudden death of his queen. It left little time for anything else.

Rilian hoped no one else would notice. It would complicate things so much. Then he would have to explain, and that…no, she wouldn't like that. She told him once not to mention this to anyone else in the castle, for if he did, she'd have to leave and never come back. She would not wait for him in the glade anymore of he told this to anyone else.

That idea was almost too terrifying to behold. What would it be like, never to see her again? It would have to be the worst thing in the entire world. He didn't know what he would do if she wasn't there at the glade. He would…well, if this was madness, he was sure he would lose his mind altogether if she left.

It was questionable whether he still had his mind by this point…but it is of course the mark of enchantment that the more enchanted you are, the more you feel as if you aren't enchanted at all. The more he thought that there was something wrong…for there absolutely had to be, though he didn't know what…the harder it was to hold on to the idea of _what _was wrong.

In the beginning he was sure that he knew it. In the early days, he would sit outside and watch the sun rise and know that there, somewhere in his mind, was the answer…was what he was looking for, was the exact knowledge of what was wrong and how he could fix it. He would sit there and stare and wait, knowing that sooner or later the answer would come to the forefront of his mind, and he would be free of this…this madness. It had something to do with a serpent, he knew. He kept that idea in his mind even when the lady shrugged and said she knew nothing of it. Maybe she didn't, even though she knew virtually all there was to know. Maybe he actually knew something that she didn't?

That was a strange notion. She knew so much, and was willing to grace him with her wisdom on those afternoons. But still, he held that faint idea in his mind, that maybe…just maybe…he knew something she didn't.

He didn't know why he held on to that notion. Sooner or later she would ask, and he knew he would tell her, if just to hear her wise opinion at the matter. But for now, he would keep it to himself.

"Your majesty?"

"Yes, Trumpkin?"

He was surprised he remembered the name Trumpkin. It was a foolish name (the lady had laughed when he said that name one day, and told him that it was a completely ridiculous name and she was sorry that the dwarf had to have it), but he had heard it so many times it was impossible to forget.

"What? I'm no bumpkin."

Rilian shook his head and turned his chair around to look at the dwarf. He was old, his white beard hanging down to his knees, and his glasses perched on the tip of a crooked nose. He was starting to lose his hearing, which was rather annoying at times, because for the most part Trumpkin could hear just fine, but there were the awkward moments where you'd say, oh don't worry it's just an old sea chantey, and then in the middle of a council meeting Trumpkin would put his hand to his ear and say, quite loudly, "Whose panties?"

"I know you're not. What is it that you want?"

"Eh? Speak up a little. I'm not deaf yet, boy."

"What…do…you…want?" Rilian said clearly and slowly.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Don't be going off about bumpkins when you can speak perfectly clear. Emmin the Trout…from the River Rush…had a question about whether or not they had to pay tribute. Your father's out, they need you to take care of it."

It took Rilian a moment to remember exactly where the River Rush was…that was south, wasn't it?

"Oh. Well, I'll…be…be right along."

"Hurry up, then. No taking time, Emmin is impatient, you know. Most Trouts tend to be, so none of this hanging around like you used to. Up on your feet! Come on!"

Trumpkin didn't wait for Rilian to do anything, just headed down the hall on his way.

What did a Trout want to know about tribute? What was tribute, anyway? He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it and remember…tribute, tribute, oh, that was it, there was a tribute that had to be paid…nothing major, but…something paid from the riverfolk to the crown in order to ensure continuing loyalty to King Caspian. Of course the tribute was actually useful, as Caspian always took it and used it to keep the rivers clean and healthy, to ensure the continuing long life of the Fish and all else that lived in the rivers. Free from pollution, Caspian said.

Rilian wasn't interested in talking to a Trout about tribute. Why didn't someone else do it?

_Don't worry about anything at home, _he remembered the lady saying. _It won't do to keep dwelling on everything here, my dear. Go home and be as you were, just don't forget to come back here._

Well, if she said it was alright. He might as well.

Rilian found his way down to the river, further from the city where the water was still fresh and hadn't run into the ocean yet. Emmin the Trout was at the bank, swimming back and forth impatiently. Rilian knelt at the bank and peered into the water.

"Emmin?"

The Trout surfaced, his mouth opening and closing in the air. The bulk of his body remained underwater, and he only lifted himself out enough to talk.

"Your majesty," the Trout replied. "Forgive me, but is your father about? I have a question regarding the payment this year."

"Ah…I'm sorry, he's out right now," had Trumpkin mentioned where his father had gone? Rilian couldn't remember.

"Really? Oh, that is really too bad. My lord prince, I was wondering then if you would be willing to accept the tribute next month? I know it is due at the start of summer, but I'm afraid…we've been having some trouble this year." Emmin dove under the water for a second to catch his breath before resurfacing. "We've had enough time to gather the necessary tribute, but there's been no one who can get it down here."

"What about you?"

"I don't take care of the tribute. That's not my position. The treasurer has been ill and his associates have caught a bit of it, and so there's been no one to take it down."

"Couldn't you? Even if your treasurer is ill, if you've managed to come this whole way. There's no reason you can't just bring the tribute yourself."

"Well, aren't you the polite one," the Trout swished its tail in disapproval. "I'm the Chief of Trout, it's not my duty to take care of that. I came to speak to your father, and tell him further about the treasury. I'm afraid he knows more about it than you. And is far more polite…aren't you going to offer a freshwater bath? Your father always lets me stay in the castle."

"He's away, and I don't know you," Rilian replied irritably. He knew that he ought to know something about Emmin. He remembered the name and knew something about Chief of Trout…it was important, wasn't it? And naturally he should be polite…but for whatever reason he couldn't find the information, though he knew it was in his mind somewhere. Chief, Chief, Trout…the River Rush down south…it was important that you are polite, Trouts love politeness, didn't they? Or was that some other sort of animal? The more Rilian tried to remember the harder it was, and the more he was frustrated over that loss.

"Nevertheless, it's common politeness…your majesty…"

"Sorry, I can't do anything. I guess come back when my father returns, I'm sure that'll be in a few days."

The Trout opened its mouth to say something, but by that point the prince was gone.

* * *

"What happened?"

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I'm afraid Emmin's gone by now."

"Gone? How? I just saw him this morning. He came asking for tribute, I told him that Caspian should be along later." Replied Sal, putting down her pen. She was right in the middle of a letter home, assuring them that she would be coming back for the summer and leaving in about two weeks.

"I know that," replied the Hedgehog. "The king still hasn't returned."

"Well, what's the problem? Hasn't Rilian gone to see the Trout, then?"

"That's…that's the problem, ma'am."

"What problem?"

"He went to see the Trout, but…but Emmin left. Emmin told me he was terribly insulted by the prince's rude behavior. He was apparently brushed aside and then walked out on."

"What? That's ridiculous."

"That's what Emmin said. I don't know what else to tell you."

"I don't believe it. Rilian would never do that. Where is he?"

The Hedgehog shrugged.

"What do you mean you don't know? Then go and find out."

"Right away, ma'am." The Hedgehog bowed and waddled back out the door.

Sal watched him leave. That made no sense. Rilian was polite to everyone, especially if he was standing in for his father and greeting someone. It didn't make sense that he would blow someone off like that. She had heard that he hadn't quite been himself lately…at least some of the older courtiers had mentioned it to her. Still, she didn't believe this. Granted she hadn't seen much of him since the queen died…but she understood that. She had enough to keep busy with. She knew after the funeral he wanted time to himself, time to grieve…she understood that and left him, promising only to be there when he needed her. But lately…no, still, this was ridiculous.

"Lady Sal?"

Sal rose and held out her hand instinctively. "Good afternoon, Rilian."

"Yes, good afternoon. What is it?"

Sal let her hand fall. Rilian had come, but he wasn't…he wasn't even looking at her. He sat down in one of her chairs, but looked slightly unfocused, staring past her at one of the paintings on the walls. He rested his chin in his hands and crossed his legs.

"What happened today?"

"What do you mean? Nothing happened. Nothing of consequence."

"I was told that you were rude to Emmin, who came all the way from River Rush to discuss tribute and other things with you father. I was told that you brushed him aside, and he left without a further word to anyone except the Hedgehog that was here earlier. He was highly insulted and was saying all sorts of things, apparently, swearing he was never going to come to Narnia again as long as the king's son was such a terribly rude person. I…I don't understand that."

All Rilian did was shrug. "I couldn't do anything for him, really."

"Couldn't do…invited him here, maybe? I'd have done something, if you had asked!"

"Well it's done, isn't? He's gone home and we can't bring him back if he doesn't want to be, so…"

"So what? I don't know why you'd do something like that!"

"Like what? I just told him to return another day when my father was able to receive him."

"This isn't like you," Sal replied, frustrated. She threw the papers around in the air, though that seemed not to faze him in the least. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Sal, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just busy." He stood up.

"If this is…listen, if…if the queen's death was so…"

"It's nothing to do with that!" he snapped. "It's nothing! I don't have time for this, I don't even know what you're talking about. I don't have time to listen to your scolding. I'm leaving."

"I'm not even…"

She ran to the door, but Rilian had already left, walking furiously down the hall for whatever reason, off to whatever end that Sal didn't know.

Sal could only stand in the doorway, uncomprehending. What was going on? This was nothing like Rilian, he had never spoken this way to her, never acted this way to anyone. Had his mother's death affected him that much? It couldn't be. She had seen him when that happened, and…he was nearly beside himself with grief, but…could grief change a person that much?

Sal didn't know, and she didn't know if there was any way to find out.

* * *

It was getting frustrating, and Rilian had no idea what to do. Why did people keep finding him? Was it so hard to leave him alone? He made it quite clear he wanted to be left alone. He rode out all day, making sure no one followed him, he locked the door…what else did he have to do?

And why…why did he say that to Sal?

He couldn't even remember the conversation. The exact words faded, but the idea remained. He had said something to her, and…and it wasn't good, certainly not. He had yelled at her, or said something that she…she didn't like? Whatever it was, he had…seen this utterly impossible look on her face, a terrible look, such confusion and surprise that he wasn't used to seeing with her. What had he said to cause that? He didn't want to do anything to cause her grief, not Sal. Why had he done anything like that? Why hadn't he told her the truth, whatever the truth was?

What was wrong with him that he couldn't even remember?

He had to tell her, or…or someone.

But what would he say? That he couldn't seem to remember anything anymore? That every single thing someone said to him was sooner or later muddied and slipped through his mind, every thought, every idea seemed to be reduced to its basic form? He couldn't recall conversations or meetings or any information. He struggled to remember even the most simple of instructions…even if someone only said, yes, go downstairs in five minutes…it took him a good half hour to remember, downstairs, five minutes…and by that time it had already passed. What's wrong, Rilian, you're so distracted, people said. At least he thought they said. At least he figured they said something like that, as the actual words were lost in a maze of bewildered faces that he couldn't quite name.

He couldn't actually tell anyone that!

They'd know he was mad. They'd know that he was slowly losing his mind, slowly fading away because of…of…

Rilian slammed the door shut, crossed the room and sat, twisting his fingers hard through his hair. What was wrong with him? What made him speak like that to Sal, to that…that Trout! He was going to be king someday, this wasn't the proper behavior for a king or any sort of royalty, especially here in Narnia.

And he didn't know why he was doing it. It hadn't always been this way, had it? He used to have a purpose, used to know exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. He used to be searching for something and beyond a doubt knew he was going to find it. Aslan knew he was…he was determined to help avenge his mother, but he had forgotten how or what he was looking for in order to get it done. For some reason he remembered the word "assassin" but couldn't think of anything beyond that. Send a party out looking for assassins?

He was certain once. He was certain that he belonged to Narnia, he was certain of everything in his mind, and now he could barely hold on to any idea. Now everything slipped his memory, everything except…except her…

She was the only thing that stayed in his mind anymore…

_Now, come with me,_

Her voice was the only thing that stayed in his mind.

_You will ride out each day, and I do promise to meet you here._

Nothing besides her promises.

There was the snake…

That was it!

Rilian sat up straight, his eyes wide. The snake! That's what he had been looking for! It was a snake, a snake that had killed his mother and he was going to find the creature and kill it!

If he killed it…

Rilian had the oddest thought that…that if he killed the snake, then he'd remember everything else. Maybe it was that which was making him so single minded, sending him into this madness that he could barely understand. Was he so determined to destroy that animal that it was turning him into this?

He rode out that day, searching for it again.

_What are you doing here, my dear? So late? You're lucky that I was in the area._

He was trying to find a snake. He was trying to avenge his mother. He was Rilian, son of Caspian, and his mother was the daughter of a star who returned with Caspian from the eastern end of the world. She had been killed by a snake, a horrible shining beast, and he was searching for it…

_Searching? Why would you waste all your time seeking a snake? You've hardly spoken of these things recently._

Yes, I did, I've told you of it. I told you about my mother, and my father, and my fiancée Lady Sal…

_Who? _

Lady Sal…

_Lady Sal? You still think of her?_

Of course, she's my fiancée.

_Yet here, here there is no need to worry about such things, about such people. In fact, it would displease me greatly if you ever mentioned that name again, my prince._

Of course, lady, I won't.

_No, you won't. And I am so sorry that you still remember all this, that you still have that grief. Why don't you forget about the snake?_

Forget? I can't forget. I must avenge my mother…

_Oh, but you can do that another time. Right now, I ask only that you forget the worm, forget this foolish quest. After all, that's what you want, isn't it? You want to forget it and come back here to me._

Yes, yes of course I do. I want to forget it and come back here to you.

_It is so much easier to do away with all such thoughts, and return here to me._

Of course it is.

_You are only truly who you are when you are with me._

How could I have forgotten…

_It isn't your fault. You are terribly busy, and surely that distracts you from that. But fear not, when you come here you won't have to worry about all those problems. When you are here with me, you will always know who you are and never have to fear what anyone else thinks of you._

I believe you, most gracious lady. I am only myself when I am with you…

_Yes. Yes, always remember that._

Will you come back with me? Come back to the city? You would love my city…

_No, not yet. I will not come back with you yet. But…my dear…_

What? What is it?

_How long have we known each other?_

Forever…

_In another time and place I have seen your kingdom. But you have never seen mine._

You have a kingdom?

_Oh, of course. It is a beautiful place that I have crafted. It is a kingdom of dreams, my prince. It is the only place in the world where dreams can become a reality. If you were there, then you will see that anything you dream there can come into existence. It is a place formed of stone and ether, of magic and wonder…ah, you have never seen a kingdom like all that mine is._

It sounds beautiful, I've never heard of anything like it.

_There isn't, my dear, anything like it. Not in this world or any other. It is something that only I have. Perhaps…_

Perhaps?

_Perhaps you will come with me. Perhaps you will ride out one day, my dear, but not now…and I will take you with me. You will come, and you will see my kingdom. Ah, I will show you everything, even the things you cannot possibly comprehend._

When will you do this?

_Not yet. There is still much I have to do. But come here, come here every day, and when the time is right, I will take you._

I'll go with you.

_I know._

Did she lie? Did she truly mean it? Would he someday see the kingdom of this beautiful elusive lady, who held his name and sanity…oh, when he stood there in the glade he was sure beyond anything else in the world. The madness disappeared, for a short while, everything was perfectly clear.

He returned home and then it all returned to the way it was. The cloudiness returned, the forgetfulness…was it being apart from this strange lady that caused it? It couldn't be. But it didn't make sense, and every time he thought he was coming close to the answer, he lost it again.

_Then this week,_

Her voice was soft, soft and melodious.

_This week, you will come?_

Of course.

_This week you will come with me._

This week…this week, to turn from the sights of Cair Paravel, to turn from the confusion and bewilderment of this steady forgetfulness, and see the dream kingdom of that lady…

"Your highness,"

What? That was Lord Drinian's voice. There were only a few voices he could still keep in his mind, and Drinian's was one of them. Drinian was one of his closest friends, the one person he had know and trusted for years now.

"Yes?"

Drinian looked concerned. He was frowning deeply, his familiar face creased in worry. "Your highness must soon give over seeking the worm. There is no true vengeance on a witless brute as there might be on a man." Drinian said, putting one hand on Rilian's shoulder and looking very serious. "You weary yourself in vain."

Rilian wanted to laugh. Had Drinian honestly thought that he had been riding out in search of…what was it? A worm! That snake!

The lady had said, forget about the snake. Of course he was more than happy to oblige.

"My Lord," There was a high chance that Drinian wouldn't even believe him. But Rilian had known Drinian all his life, and if he couldn't trust this man, who could he trust? Not his father, who in the typical manner of fathers would be suspicious of everything. Not Sal, for Sal…what would Sal understand of the lady? Sal would no doubt do something foolish, and the lady…she told him that she wanted to hear nothing more of Sal. It would displease her if he brought Sal to the glade. "I have almost forgotten the worm these seven days."

Drinian looked surprised. "Why, then, if you have so forgotten, do you keep riding out to the woods every day, to the northern border? There seems no reason for in, and I'm worried. This hasn't been like you."

Rilian looked past Drinian's head at the landscape of Cair Paravel. The lady did not like Sal, wouldn't trust his father. But Drinian was a friend. Drinian was Rilian's greatest friend among all the older courtiers, and he had known him forever. There were few people…no, there had to be no one in the court more trustworthy than Drinian.

"My lord," Rilian said. "I have seen there the most beautiful thing that was ever made." That was of course the only possible way to describe this lady. He could no doubt tell Drinian the way her hair shone in the sun, or the way her hands plucked the plants from the ground and crushed them between her fingers as if she had been doing that her entire life, or the way she leaned back in the brilliant afternoon glow and put the flowers all around her to shame in the perfection of her dress and all that she was.

"Fair prince," Drinian spoke carefully, Rilian could tell. "of your courtesy let me ride with you tomorrow, that I also may see this fair thing."

It was an odd request. It had been the first and only time that anyone had truly asked Rilian this question as well. He had heard countless questions of, what's wrong, what's happening, why are you acting this way…but Drinian was the only one to ever ask why he had been riding out every day, if not to seek the worm.

What would Drinian say, if he saw the lady?

There were few people in the world that Rilian trusted as much. Drinian was older and wiser, he could look at things and see them in a clearer light than Rilian's befuddled mind could. Perhaps it would be all the better that way! If Drinian saw the lady, then he could understand why Rilian was so distracted, why he had insisted every day to ride out and see her. Then…Drinian, in his wisdom, would be able to…to most likely figure out why Rilian had been losing his mind, where all this madness had come from. And Drinian would surely understand the lady, and understand her beauty and wonder. It was the only choice.

He trusted Drinian. He trusted him to this as well.

"With a good will," said Rilian.

* * *

Sara had stayed here for more than a month, living mostly in her starform and only becoming herself for the afternoons, but it had been worth it. It was…it was not as difficult as she had presumed. She could build madness as easily as she had built a kingdom. She had found a way to do this, and she had worked at it, every day…

There was little of Rilian now that still belonged to him. And he didn't even know it. He didn't know the way he looked in the glade, sitting up at perfect attention, his eyes and mind filled with nothing but her voice and her commands. He looked as if he would truly go mad if he never heard her voice again.

It was exactly the way she wanted it.

He didn't think of Sal anymore since she had ordered it. He had been staying away from the castle longer and longer, and had told her that he would stay away forever if just to hear her laugh again.

"When the time is right, I will take you." It was the same thing he had said to her, years before, in the far Shuddering Woods when he promised to take her to Cair Paravel. He didn't even recognize his own words, nor the odd dreamy way he replied,

"I'll go with you."

His voice, though it was dreamy and faraway, it was still his voice, staying close to her and practically whispering that to her ear. I'll go with you. It was a promise, though it was in truth her own wishes speaking in his voice…but she didn't care. It was still his voice, it was still his eyes looking at her as if she were the goddess Aresia herself.

Any day now, it would be complete. He was utterly lost in her enchantment, and soon…soon she would hold her hand out to him, and he would take it…and then no god could keep them apart. She mentioned her own kingdom, and he had looked at that moment as if there was nothing more in the world he wanted more than to go with her there. It was a wish she could easily fulfill. He would take her hand and they would leave, leave Cair Paravel and this world of Narnia far behind. Narnia would only be a dream, a distant memory, something unpleasant that could be torn from one's mind and replaced with something beautiful. In her kingdom anything was possible, it was the one place where anything imagined could take form. Narnia would cease to exist eventually, as in Narnia things were always a certain way…but in Underland, soon the entire world would realize the glory of a dream kingdom as opposed to a real one. A real one had harsh realities, had daylight, had terrible words and sadness. But in Underland, there was none of that. She could wave her hand and do away with sadness and terror, with death and grief and all those worries that could plague someone's mind.

She was doing him a favor. He deserved better than Narnia the way it was. He deserved Narnia the way she would eventually recreate it as, as a land beyond this, a land of life and dreams and glory. A shining land, as beautiful as the land of the gods itself. It would eventually be a place to even put central Tahalset to shame.

But first, oh, there was so much to do first.

She needed him there first.

There were the familiar sounds of hoofbeats on the grass that she could recognize in her starform, the vibrations recognizable through the ground. It was afternoon already? Yes, it must be. Even she was losing tack of time lately. But her tail twitched nervously when she felt it was not one horse…two horses? Who else would dare come to this glade?

She transformed back and stayed hidden behind the tree. Why did he bring someone? Had she not accounted for that?

"Here, it's this glade," she heard Rilian's voice.

"This one, sire? Are you certain?" Who was that? Sara didn't recognize that voice. It came from an older person, though she couldn't remember meeting them.

"Yes, it's this one. Here…here, just wait."

"Wait? My lord, what am I waiting for?"

Sara took a step back, still remaining hidden in the lush growth of the glade. Rilian was off his horse, looking around the glade expectantly. And there was an older man with him, a man whose face and mind was clear and practical.

"I don't see anything,"

"Just wait, Drinian, and I promise you you'll see it."

She hissed in fury. What was he thinking, bringing another person here?

He had to be suspicious…both of them. Drinian naturally, she had never met the man before but knew he was an old friend of the king's. And Rilian…maybe on some level the prince _did _know that something was wrong and wanted…to get another opinion on it…

Still. Whether he was here or not, she couldn't stop what she was doing. It risked being seen, being found out…but hah, what did that matter? By the time any information got out, she would be long vanished, and so would he. Any day now…well, if this man had come, it had to be either tomorrow or the next day.

Noon came, the sun shining high above the trees and filtering down to cast the glade in its brilliant noon light.

Sara stepped out from the trees, just as she had every day.

She was tall and great, shining, and was wrapped in a thin garment as green as poison. Though in truth it was only the glow of the afternoon sun on her dress that made her appear so, and the dress, beautiful and glittery as it was, was only thin because it made it easier to transform. It gave her less trouble to return to her normal form in a dress thin and tight and shining the same color as her starform. And if there was one thing she didn't need right now was trouble transforming.

Rilian raised his head to her, his blue eyes meeting hers. He could only stare, his eyes wide, his being showing great restlessness, showing a desire to throw aside this horse and join her right now. She could see such longing in his eyes…it almost took her breath away. I understand.

She held out her hand.

But then Drinian made a move, a small one, as if to come forward and see her for himself. No! He couldn't!

Sara's other hand lightly brushed one of the necklaces she wore. She whispered a word so faint it could barely be heard, and then she vanished entirely.

"Curse you, Drinian! You've frightened the lady away!" Rilian snapped, whirling furiously on his horse to glare at the other man.

But Drinian knew.

Sara remained where she was, not daring to move lest it disturb the grass and bushes around her. She knew how to recognize people by now, how to understand what they were feeling, how to understand them. It is very difficult to spend that much effort on gradually enchanting someone to not know how people were. And she knew that look on Drinian's face. He was still staring at the spot where she was, and he was frowning, and backing away slowly on his horse. Rilian was only looking angry, furious that Drinian's small movement had made his lady vanish.

But Drinian knew what she was.

He was Narnian, and he was also far older and wiser than Rilian was. He knew evil. He had seen evil in the past, he had seen terrible people and learned how to recognize that look, that appearance.

_It was stuck in Drinian's mind that this shining green woman was evil._

Drinian had seen the look on Rilian's face when Sara had appeared. He looked as if he was nearly driven out of his mind by the sheer sight of the strange lady. No doubt something so suspicious would return to the castle, and Sara knew that word in a castle spread fast. As soon as Drinian told one person, soon everyone would know it. Soon the king would know it, and soon they would take Rilian and force him to stay inside, as far away from the glade as possible. They would hold him in his own castle until the enchantment wore off and he was in his right mind again, and then they would go out searching for her. She knew how these things worked. One person would set off a chain reaction that Sara couldn't stop.

Well, this was it, then. Wait another day, and before long, Drinian's word would have spread and they would investigate.

Drinian kicked the horse and guided it away from the glade.

Rilian hesitated a moment, turning around to look back at her. She unhooked the necklace and let it fall to the floor, reappearing.

He could only stare. She held out her hand again.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. Though no one could hear anything, through the bond of enchantment the words were as clear as if she had shouted it. "Tomorrow, you will come here, and tomorrow, you will return with me to my kingdom."

"Yes…"

"Now go."

"Come now, sire," Drinian's voice came from further off. "Let us be gone now from this accursed glade."

Rilian still hesitated, staring after the figure in the glade, who only nodded and gestured that he leave. Tomorrow…oh, what a promise tomorrow held, to finally leave this place and go to the beautiful dream kingdom the lady always spoke of. To be free of worries and cares and the pressures of palace life and live in a world where magic and mystery ruled, where one could be free from fear and sadness.

"Accursed no longer to me," Rilian said in reply, and then followed Drinian back home.

Sara let her hand fall as they rode away. She watched until they were out of sight, then retrieved her necklace from the ground and hooked it back around her neck. Then she transformed and fell back into the grass, curled up with her head resting on her tail. It was still early, and the afternoon sun felt soothing and energizing to her reptile body.

Accursed no longer to me.

* * *

_Drinian doubted very much whether he ought not to tell this adventure to the King, but he had little wish to be a blab and a tale-bearer and so he held his tongue. But afterwards he wished he had spoken._

"My horse. Thank you."

Rilian took the reins of the palace's finest horse. The stableboy handed the horse off to him, unnerved by the odd look in the prince's eyes. It had been that way for some time now, but today it was all the worse, and if it had gotten to the point where a mere stableboy noticed it, he knew it had to be a bad thing. Possibly the worst thing.

"Will you be back later, my lord?"

Rilian only shrugged and mounted the horse. He was dressed in court finery, in a mail shirt and a particularly nice sword at his hip. His hair was brushed and he looked quite presentable, if one could ignore the strange look in his eyes and his face.

"Is there anything else you need, my lord?" the stableboy asked.

"Nothing…"

There was for a moment something Rilian did think of, something he did need and did want to say, but it was lost before he could think of it again.

The stableboy nodded and turned away, going back into the stables.

Rilian kicked the horse hard and it cantered out the palace doors and onto the main road in Cair Paravel. The path twisted through the city, and because he had done this every day for so long, no one thought to look twice. No one found anything strange about it, for there was nothing to see, only what they thought was a much grieved prince, still in search for revenge…

_For the next day, Prince Rilian rode out alone. That night he came not back, and from that hour no trace of him was ever found in Narnia nor any neighboring land, and neither his horse nor his hat nor his cloak nor anything else was ever found._


	24. Chapter 24

((Thanks again everyone! And yeah, psychology is great, isn't it? I thoroughly enjoyed all the research I had to do for this))

It was a strange sensation; there was brilliant light, only for a moment, and now it was dark, and this whole area had a strange smell; musty, yet with no hint of dampness despite the darkness and the…water? There was water as well? And he had the oddest thought that he was taken underground, too deep to even know…

Prince Rilian awoke with a start and sat straight up, feeling for a moment a dizzying sense of bewilderment…then all that was left was a horrible headache, and the light…the light was bright here too, and it hurt his eyes.

"Your majesty! Why, you are awake!"

Rilian turned and started again. Where…where in Aslan's name _was _this?

The entire room was lovely, that was certain. It was filled with a golden light, coming from sconces and other ornate lamps on the walls around the room, and a small, glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling. There was a fireplace of clean-cut stone with a fire gently burning. The walls were bright, too, with several jewels embedded in different places, casting a strange light on the room itself. There was a carpet of deep maroon, and two tapestries on the wall, one which had a man driving a spear into what looked like a woman with twenty arms and the head of a chameleon, and the other with…strangely enough…a raccoon, holding a needle in one hand and a spool of thread in the other. On the desk was a miniature palm tree in a pot.

And oddest of all was the…what was _that? _It was a small man…a gnome…with two eyes set very close together that kept darting all about the room nervously, a thick bulbous nose and a hairy unibrow. He was dressed elaborately for a gnome, in clothes made of some strange silver material that shimmered when he moved, and a long maroon cloak that hung off his shoulders and down to the ground. On his shirt was embroidered a snake, and the snake was coiled around the same spool of thread that the raccoon was holding in the tapestry. He held a spear of solid, shining silver. The gnome's hat was perched at a jaunty angle over his head and gave him a rather rakish appearance, though everything else about him seemed to speak otherwise.

Rilian rose from…from the bed he had apparently been sleeping on, though he had no memory of this. He was dressed still in…in the clothes he had been wearing in Narnia, on a day that was…riding across the grass, in the sunlight…

"Who are you?" Rilian demanded.

The gnome smiled. "Mullugutherum, your majesty, advisor to the queen herself!" He stood straighter and grinned broadly. "Hear that? And it was my most important task…see, she only trusted me with it, me!" he giggled. "I was to watch you until you awoke. Well, good morning, then!" Mullugutherum saluted with the spear. "Now I must go inform the queen that you are awake! Good day, your majesty!"

Mullugutherum trotted back to the door…then he opened the door and walked through it and closed it, and it clanged shut behind him.

Rilian sat back on the bed and held his head in his hands, hoping that would stop this strange headache. Where was this? The last thing he remembered…

He had been going mad. This was all part of that madness. Had it gotten so bad, had it progressed so far as he now imagined himself to exist in this…this place? It was a nice place, but he had never seen it before in his life.

No. He remembered being taken here, though he didn't know where this was. He had some memories, odd and distorted as they were, of journeying underground, of an ocean that existed without sun, of other creatures like that gnome, only they all looked different.

What sort of dream was that? It didn't make sense. It was all twisted, bits and pieces that he couldn't find a common connection between. He had been searching for a vile serpent that had killed his mother…that much was certain. Everything after that seemed distant and unsure. There were moments, snatches of conversation that he had a feeling he might have said. And now he was in a room with strange tapestries and strange events…and who was that gnome? What did that gnome…and that queen he spoke of…want of him? Rilian knew no queen, not since…not since his mother had died. Archenland had no queen…the king had ruled himself for eight years now since his own queen had died. And further south was Calormen, and they only had that barbaric Tisroc fellow. North, what about north? No, there were no queens to the north, only a castle called Harfang where lived civilized giants. They had no queen, though, only a lady of sorts. No…no, Harfang did have a queen. But this wasn't Harfang, unless he had been taken somewhere to wait until the Queen wanted to see him? That didn't make sense.

Maybe if he got out of this room…there were no windows in it…he could figure it out. He crossed the room to the door and pulled on the handle…but the door wouldn't open. He pulled harder…still nothing. There seemed to be no other ways out of this room. So what, he was locked in a strange room with no windows? There had to be windows. Unless it was an inner room, or a bedroom, and it was supposed to be private? Then why was the door locked?

Alright, then, if the door was locked, there was nothing he could do about that. What about…communication? Maps? Maybe there was a map or somewhere, or a book…something in this room that would give him a clue to where he was. Rilian walked over to the dresser and opened it, but there was nothing in it but clothing…finely woven clothes, but nothing else. And what of those tapestries? No, those only made this odd place even stranger. Who in their right mind fought twenty armed women? Who…no, who went looking for twenty armed women so that they could fight them? And where would one find twenty armed women anyway?

Rilian gave a small shake of his head. He must have certainly gone mad, if he was actually thinking of where twenty armed women would be. And what, was this an imagined room? Rilian didn't know all that much about madness, but wasn't it supposed to be…oh, wouldn't it have some sort of beautiful place, if one was going to live entirely on imagination? Some beach, maybe, a lovely relaxing place. That's the way madness was always described as…people seeing delusions, and those delusions always came from one's memory. Rilian didn't know this place, so why would he imagine it? Unless he was imagining an entirely new place?

Maybe the twenty armed woman was the official sign of madness. Or maybe the raccoon holding the thread.

There were no books. He went through the entire dresser, even looked under the bed, no matter how ridiculous that was a thing to do. Yet his search merited no books, no maps, nothing. Just the two tapestries to give him a clue as to where he was. And that gnome.

The door opened while Rilian was looking through the drawers. Two gnomes entered, resplendently dressed, each holding long spears that went above their heads. They banged their spears into the ground, a noise that echoed in this strange room. Rilian straightened and made an attempt not to look like he was looking through clothes drawers, though the gnomes didn't seem to care. The gnomes were odd…they didn't look the same as the other one that had been here before. One of them was lanky, thin, with a beak. The other was tall, fat, and had three arms.

"Many sink to the bottom," said the birdlike one.

"And few return to the sunlit lands," the other one replied. "Make way for the Queen of Underland,"

Several other gnomes entered, and they were followed by a strange woman, dressed in a long blue gown with ornate embroidery at the sleeves and neckline. She wore no crown, though she was called queen.

"Good afternoon, Rilian," she said.

The other gnome…what was his name? came following behind her, still grinning.

"Er…good afternoon,"

"Your majesty!" the gnome added almost as quickly. "She's the queen, after all! Be polite!"

"Now, Mullugutherum," the queen said with a voice of infinite patience. "I believe we can excuse politeness for now until my lord prince is more accustomed to the way things are here."

The gnome dropped his eyes. "Yes, your majesty,"

"Oh, don't worry, Mullugutherum. It is understandable. You're not used to having anyone else besides myself here, but eventually you'll be used to it. Now, go wait over there, will you? And you…both of you, leave us."

"Straightaway, your majesty,"

"Many sink to the bottom…"

"Yes, yes, and few return to the sunlit lands, I know." The queen waved her hand impatiently. Then she turned back to Rilian and gave a small shrug. "It does get annoying after awhile," she said. "That bloody chant of theirs. 'Many sink to the bottom', yes, well of course they do. 'And few return to the sunlit lands.' Ah, well, it makes them feel better, so I let them keep it. It reminds them of their old home and old defenses, you know, where many really did find their way down and no one ever returned. Anyway, listen to me!" she laughed. "Prattling on like some sort of schoolgirl. Well, good afternoon, Rilian. I hope you are well?"

"I suppose," he replied doubtfully.

"Though bewildered. That is entirely understandable. Come here."

Figuring she might be the only one able to tell him where he was, he walked over. "Good afternoon, though I can't exactly tell it's afternoon."

"No," she agreed. She pulled a pocketwatch out of the belt she wore around her waist. She held the watch up, and it showed about an hour after midday. "Time really doesn't matter, but since you absolutely insist, it's afternoon."

"Have…have I been asleep since…"

"Last night? Yes. It takes awhile for it to wear off…well…you were tired,"

"For _what _to wear off?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all. Mullugutherum!"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"It's afternoon. Bring us lunch, why don't you? And have it out on the terrace."

"Straightaway, your majesty,"

"Thank you." She nodded and watched as he left. "He is useful, that Mullugutherum, and I really don't know what I would do without him, but there are sometimes where he is terribly annoying. Tell me, how are you feeling? Dizzy in any way?"

"Dizzy? No…just, just a headache."

"Ah! That's all! I'm surprised. Don't worry, I'll take care of that. Anything else?"

"No, just…this is an odd place to meet, Sara."

She smiled. "I'm glad to see you remember me. You had forgotten the last time we met."

"Yes, well, I remember now. It only took me a moment…not used to seeing you wear blue. Listen…"

"I did that to see if you remembered." She laughed. "But I see you have."

"And I am not dreaming."

"No." She agreed, surprisingly. "No, certainly not. It is impossible for two people to share the same dream, and I have looked into it, believe me."

"Sara, I need you to tell me where I am."

"Where? Why, you are in Underland, of course. Though in a more archaic form of my language, it is called Sayn Taera, the place of dreams. Beautiful name, yes?"

"I've never heard of Underland."

"Of course not! No one has, my dear, no one at all. Be thankful that you are the first."

"What is it? I have no recollection of coming here. I have no idea where this is or how I got here…the last thing I remember, or the last few things I remember…arguments? I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything." He shook his head. "I remember countless arguments and faces, and people, at least I think they were people. Trees, I think, and sunlight, and…riding?" It took him a moment before he realized he was saying all this out loud. "You must think I'm mad."

"I do not," she said, and he started, surprised.

"Why not?"

"I know madness well. Remind me to take you to see Thanagel, the former elder. There is true madness, and you are nothing like that."

"Who is Thanagel?"

"A former elder of Bism. And you are here because I took you here. Don't you remember? You came with me."

"Down…down? Through the tunnels?"

"Yes."

"Then this is underground?"

"Yes, of course! That's why it's called Underland, don't you know. Or Sayn Taera, though try to get any of those gnomes to pronounce that for you. But yes, you came with me, and now…ah, but what use are words when I can show you?" she held her hand out.

"What?"

"Come. Let me show you. And then I will explain everything, at least what I can. Come,"

Having no other choice, Rilian followed her out the door and down a series of hallways. They were all brightly lit and richly carpeted, with the light glimmering out from fancy sconces and the carpets were all sorts of deep colors. Finally she reached a set of double doors, and pulled the doors open. He followed her out onto a balcony…and…

"Now see this," she pulled him to the end of the balcony, and then gestured out far beyond. "Come and look, my dear."

Spread out before him was an enormous city, with houses and buildings as far as one could see, lights glimmering out of half of those places, though the lights were an odd dull color considering how vast the city was. There were roads, and countless people moving on those roads, leading all the way down to a wharf at the edge of what looked like a sea. There were towers, beautiful towers with curved spires coming to a glittering point. There were reliefs, all of them similar to the tapestry Rilian had seen earlier, depicting events of some sort, and many of them having something to do with the snake that he remembered Sara mentioning before, the goddess of wisdom or something from her homeworld. The stones were all gray, but faintly glittering when a light passed by. This castle was the tallest place in the area. But even though it was enormous…bigger than Cair Paravel, even…it seemed somewhat dismal, and there was the oddest impression that this wasn't a normal city, that if you went down among the people you wouldn't find them laughing or genuinely living. Perhaps it was the strange pervading silence…Cair Paravel was always loud and busy. There was always someone shouting something down the streets, horses moving among the people with their hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestones, people selling things, children playing, people squabbling over something or another. Here…here it was silent, and though Rilian could see many people, none of them were talking or stopping on the streets to go about some business. They were all walking with their heads down, bustling about on some strange silent business.

It all seemed terribly unnatural…

"That's the Sunless Sea," she said, noticing him looking at the vast, dark body of water. There was a single ship sailing out of the dock, the lantern on its prow casting surprisingly little light on the shimmering water. "The dock collapsed three times before it finally held. There's a smaller port on the other side, I'll take you there again, since you probably don't remember it. I was so glad when the dock was finally finished, it was frustrating to have it keep falling every time you think it's done."

Rilian leaned over and looked down. This castle was very tall, and there were all sorts of roads twisting around it at the bottom.

"It's…it's fascinating, but what is all this?"

She stood next to him now, both her hands resting on the rail. Her eyes were half closed, her head titled slightly to the side. One hand came up to brush the odd jewels around her neck, and a faint smile came to her lips.

"This is my kingdom," she then said, her voice almost breathless. "You see, some people are born into a kingdom. I…I created mine!" Her hand fell away from the jewels and she swept it out, indicating the entire city. "Out of the dust and stone and emptiness, I created this. I took nothing and made it into something. I took an empty and forgotten space, hardly worth anything, a small area between your blessed Narnia and the distant land of Bism…and look what I have done with it! I have raised a city from the ground and reached towards the stars! See, I can make anything if I want to. I can create anything and make it all happen, if I so think of it. Sayn Taera…the place of dreams." Her voice faded off and her hand fell back to the balcony.

Rilian looked disbelievingly at her. This did not sound at all like her, this dreamy, strange passion. He knew she leaded Harfang. But this? This was impossible!

"You can't…Sara, you can't just create an entire world!"

"Oh, but I can," came her confident reply. "I can make anything I want. I can make anything come true. You can't see that now, but I will take you out among my city and then you will learn." She beamed confidently at him. "And if there is anything you can imagine, I will make it for you."

"By the Lion's mane," Rilian whispered. "I've never seen anything like it."

"No one has. It is your privilege to be the first. Welcome to Sayn Taera."

"I…I'm honored," he said. "Just a bit bewildered. I came here?"

"Yes, you did. You wished to see my kingdom, and so I took you here. It's quite simple, really."

"Then why do I have no memory of it?"

She shrugged. "It is something that tends to happen when one comes down here. Many sink to the bottom, as they say. It is a strange kingdom, mine…but do not fear, eventually you will remember. Now, come with me…my earthmen will have a lunch prepared for us, and after that, I shall show you the rest of the castle."

She turned from the railing and started back into the castle before he had a chance to say anything else. He had no choice but to follow.

Perhaps what she was saying was right. Maybe he did come down here voluntarily, maybe he did follow her…after all, he did remember awhile ago promising to come see Harfang, as it was the least he could do after being a complete idiot years ago and not doing enough after Millie and her crew set fire to Nirisath's house. Nirisath lived, but no one knew what happened to Sara. He hadn't done anything to go after her.

And a promise was a promise.

She seemed perfectly content with showing him her kingdom. She was so proud of it, though it was the strangest thing Rilian had ever seen. Who could create a kingdom? That was impossible. Only Aslan could do that.

He followed her through the castle and its numerous twisting passageways, all brightly lit...there were so many and they all looked so alike that he soon lost track of where he was going, only that she must know, and he'd know eventually. Finally she pushed open a pair of gilded doors into a surprisingly small and simple room, with nothing but a fireplace and a small table with several chairs, and very average looking electric lights.

"Expecting something grand?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Judging from the rest of this place."

"Most people would. That's why I made it this way. People tend to forget that my kingdom is a kingdom of dreams…not everyone dreams of beautiful fancy places, and not all dreams are linear. Come, sit down with me. My earthmen will be bringing us lunch shortly."

He sat down, and was surprised to see the room had a rather homey feel to it. Old fashioned, nothing like the grand rooms at Cair Paravel or the rest of this odd castle. It was more relaxed.

"So," he cleared his throat, noticing that she was watching him very carefully. "There were tapestries in my room, what were those?"

"What were they of?"

"A raccoon holding a spool of thread and a needle, and a man fighting a twenty armed woman. I remember the twenty armed woman."

She chuckled. "Yes, most people do. The Ten Voyages of Tiendra, that was one of the creatures he came across on his sixth voyage. He journeyed out to the far western islands, and that woman…Madelea…she was the ruler of the islands. There were twenty…hence the arms, she held one island in each of her hands. He defeated her and brought freedom to the islands. The other tapestry was Aresia, the Weaver. She stands next to Yarrin and weaves what he commands."

"She's…a raccoon?"

"Yes, of course," Sara looked surprised that he would even ask that. "Raccoons have opposable thumbs. They're the only ones dexterous enough to weave, and they are ten times cleverer than any other animal. It is why Yarrin would only have a raccoon weave his tapestry."

"Your world has a strange mythology,"

"And what, you're so much different, with your Aslan? He is a Lion, is he not?"

"Not a tame lion."

"Nor is Yarrin a tame eagle."

"Aslan isn't…he's different from your Yarrin. He watches over his people, but not too closely…he lets us on our own, to make our own mistakes, but always comes to us when the need is greatest."

"And what makes you think Yarrin doesn't? He watches his people, as does Aresia, as does Srinia and Tarvalos, and all the others. They may just be more watchful, since there are more of them…it must be difficult for Aslan to watch over everyone."

"But he does. He cares for his people."

She said nothing, but nodded. "He does, yes, you're right. He cares for his people more than you could possibly know." For a moment her voice took on somewhat of an edge, but then she smiled again, that faint trace of hostility gone. "And look! There are my men with lunch. Come, quickly now,"

The earthmen were all different shapes and sized, yet dressed the same, in dull clothes, with the same sad, long faces. They barely looked at Rilian, and they only glanced at Sara and then skittered away, as if afraid of her disapproval.

"Is that all well for you, your majesty?" asked a short earthman with long ears and a pig nose. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, that is all," she waved the gnome away with her hand. "All of you, leave us,"

"Of course."

"Straightaway."

The gnomes left, and she watched them carefully, then nodded with approval.

"There. Here, eat, drink, I've had this all brought from Harfang to here. Not an easy task, but…but I've gotten used to it."

"It looks delicious,"

"Thank you."

"So…well, you've told me about Harfang, but I had no idea about any of this. What is this? An underground kingdom? It seems somewhat…"

"Strange? Certainly. Well, it was…Harfang is nice, of course…when I take you there, you'll see it as well. But what, there's only so much…so much one person can do living in a castle with giants. Giants! They're nice, I mean, I'm used to them, though they may be a bit crude sometimes. But there's hardly anything to do there, other than what, directing them, teaching them, going about healing when they need it…ah, it is fine, at first…but six, seven years, you get terribly bored."

"An enchantress like you, I'd imagine so. You were a talented healer, and that's something that's always…exciting."

"Yes, healing is never boring, I can safely say."

"So what? You decided to…build this?"

She sat back, swirling the wine around in her glass. "I had plenty of time on my hands," she replied with a smile. "And these gnomes…these earthmen…they needed guidance. If you had seen them when I first did…all they had was these elders, clueless, backwards people who were so determined to keep outside influence away that they did all sorts of preposterous things to stop it. You've seen Mullugutherum, my assistant…they were going to exile him for life because he stole something. Absurd, isn't that?"

"Well, punishment for stealing makes sense."

"But not exile for life."

"No, that seems a bit extreme….so what? How did you find this?"

"By accident. One of my giants was lost one day, fell down one of the…numerous passages…this used to be a tomb, you see, at one time. Long ago, it belonged to some ancient giant who build his sepulcher here, and left countless passages to the surface open. My giants…poor thing…fell down one of them. That's how I found this place. There was nothing here when I started…it was all flat, all nothing…just this area…ah, if you had seen it! There was nothing here but dirt and rocks and empty space. And the gnomes, of course…" she added, but it seemed distant, as if there was much she was leaving out. "And so…it was a blank canvas, something had to be done with it! What, to just leave it here, untouched? I had to do something. So I built myself a kingdom. And it is so far underground that when you stand here, it is as if any other world ceases to exist but in your mind. Trust me, I know," she nodded. "There often feels as if there is no other land but this that I have created here. But it's far from being finished! Most of the buildings you see are half done. There's still entire quarters to be built, there's still a lot that's undone or in progress. It takes a long time to create something of this magnitude."

"And why do you do this?"

"Because I wanted to," she replied.

"And they just…appointed you their queen?"

She looked thoughtful for a second. "In…in a way," she said, slightly hesitant. "They…their leaders were…ineffectual. They welcomed the new leadership when I offered it."

"Seems odd, though,"

"Ask Mullugutherum. He'll tell you. They're perfectly satisfied with this. Mullugutherum!" she turned and shouted that out the door, though Rilian was doubtful that any one person she called would hear her in this enormous castle. But surprisingly he did, the gnome appearing and holding his spear proudly as he strode through the door looking thoroughly pompous.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Do tell my lord prince how much…improved…everything has been since I have been…appointed queen."

Mullugutherum looked all too happy to. "Much better!" he said, beaming at the chance to offer his words to the foreigner. "There's no foolish laws anymore that have people being exiled for the smallest things, there's no exile at all, really…there's justice and safety and we're all well looked after, and there are no prisons and no hierarchy!" he looked exceptionally happy about that. "No one is lower than anyone else!"

"Higher, he means," Sara added. "In their culture, the way it used to be, the lower someone was, the better their status. Odd, isn't it? But they were so against all things pertaining to the upper world that the closer you were to it, you were thought of…worse…for that association. Foolish, isn't it?"

"Not so much foolish as…as a different culture, I suppose."

She chuckled. "You're all so fascinated by different cultures in Narnia, aren't you? I will show you my library in Harfang and you may see that, read about all sorts of strange cultures from the past. Fascinating, I suppose…though I don't see anything particularly interesting about it. To each his own." She raised the glass. "To…to welcoming you to my Underland," she said, inclining her head slightly to him. "I am very glad that you had decided to come."

Rilian felt this was still odd, and there were…there were numerous things that didn't add up. There was something altogether strange and…_wrong _about this place, but he couldn't put his finger on it. But he didn't know how far he was from home and wasn't about to say anything, at least not yet.

"Yes, to that," he agreed, raising his own glass.

"To being the first," she continued. "Ever to see my land. To see something grand that none else have seen before in their lives."

"Very well, then. To that."

She was extremely cordial for the rest of lunch, promising to show him the rest of Underland and the Sunless Sea, which, she said, was actually a lot deeper than it looked from this area. And perhaps even the entrance to Bism, she said with a nod. Bism. Rilian had never heard of such a place, and she refused to elaborate on it, no matter how much he asked. Mullugutherum was the only one who showed any reaction when she mentioned Bism, despite the fact that all the gnomes supposedly came from there. The two gnomes on guard stood with their spears and the same blank looks on their faces, while Mullugutherum shifted in his position and looked for a moment slightly guilty.

"I will show you at least the entrance," she said, nodding. "But nothing more. Bism is a very dangerous land."

"Very." Agreed Mullugutherum, speaking up for the first time. "But not anymore."

The door opened then, and a frantic gnome ran in…or at least he gave off the appearance of frantic. His movements were quick and he entered briskly and ran straight to the queen without stopping to greet the guards first, but his face still held the same solemn expression and his voice when he spoke was monotone.

"I told you not to bother me," Sara snapped, standing up and glowering over the earthman. "I told you I was busy and not to be interrupted unless I specifically send for someone. What are you doing here now that deserves my absolute attention? I have a guest, if that's not obvious enough."

Mullugutherum looked nervously at her, and the other gnome dropped his eyes.

"Your majesty, there's been a problem in the upper city," the earthman said.

"A problem." Sara drummed her fingers against the table. "What sort of problem could be so monumentous that it requires you to interrupt me and tell me this?"

"Half the upper city's collapsed into the gathering area, your majesty. Half the army's been killed in the collapse. The structure wasn't supported well enough and crumbled. The earth wasn't strong enough to hold the stones in place…when they were put there…it was all loose earth and it's fallen."

The earthman fell silent.

"Well, I forgive you for interrupting me, then. Yes, Gwaly, that is important." Her voice was tense. "This is sudden. How could it…how did no one notice this? Why did no one tell me before?"

"You didn't ask, your majesty," said Gwaly.

"I ordered you to tell me anything that is possibly wrong, regardless of whether I remember to ask or not!" she exclaimed furiously. "Especially when it kills that many of them! What has the Warden to say about this? Where has he been through all this? Damn you, Gwaly, you should have told me and I could have fixed it months ago and not had this collapse! How bad is the damage?"

"It is bad, your majesty," Gwaly seemed unfazed by her outburst. "I told you. The gathering area's in shambles, there have been a lot dead, and the upper city is almost totally in ruins. It's right by the digging area, your majesty, you must come."

"I told you not to mention…" she started to say, her voice suddenly low and dangerous. Then she looked back over at Rilian for a moment and then stopped whatever she was about to say. "I will come straightaway, Gwaly. Go and tell them. Find the Warden and tell him to meet me at Rose Quarter."

"Straightaway, your majesty." He saluted and then hurried back out the door.

Sara sighed, pulling on a lock of her hair, just as Rilian remembered her always doing when she was nervous or faced with problems.

"I'm sorry, Rilian, I have to go." She said finally, the frustration evident in her voice. "I don't know how part of my city managed to collapse like that, and how I managed not to hear of it or notice it at all for…oh, however long it was going on. I have to see this, see what I can do to help fix it. I don't mean to run off like this, and leave you here, but…"

"Well, if the city collapsed, I understand…what army are you talking about?"

"Nothing, dear, it's just…well, every city has an army, doesn't it? In case they are attacked. I wanted that so we may have nothing to fear."

"Attack from where? You're how far underground…"

"Safety precautions, that's all! But I must go and see to this. Will you be fine? The entire castle, you know, it is yours…you have free reign of it when I am not here. You may go anywhere except my rooms, there you may only go when I am with you. But it is a large castle, so feel free to explore it yourself. I'll be back as soon as I can, my dear. Mullugutherum!"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Come with me. You want to see the Warden, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Then come, we must hurry. Hopefully Gwaly has gotten there already and will find the Warden for us." She bowed slightly to Rilian, and then turned and strode out the door, the guards following after her.

There was only one guard left, a medium sized fellow with three legs, a pig snout, and skin tinged an odd puce color. He was the same as the rest, and his dull eyes fixed on Rilian as soon as the room was cleared.

"What's your name?" Rilian asked, determined to get all he could out of this odd place. There was still something wrong, though he couldn't put his finger on it…it lie just out of his reach, just as far and distant as the last few weeks had been, where even if he tried he could come up with nothing. Well…well, this looked like the time to do it, then. Sara…the queen of this place, which he still found hard to believe…was away, and at least by himself he could try and find some more solid answers.

"My name isn't important," replied the gnome. "All that matters is what her majesty wants me to do," he said this with an odd calm monotone, as if he didn't mind this fact.

"Very well, then," Rilian stood. "Still, we ought to introduce each other. My name is Prince Rilian, and I would like to know your name."

The gnome blinked several times, vigorously, and looked closely at Rilian and for a moment a look of confusion swept over his blank features. "I'm…I'm…" he looked nervous. "Brin,"

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Brin. What do you do here?"

Brin's eyes looked frantically around the room and he poked his spear against the ground, now looking extremely nervous. "I do her majesty's bidding," he replied. "That is what I'm here for. That is all I do. Please stop asking me anything else."

"Why not? She wouldn't seem to mind if I asked."

"No she wouldn't, she always told us to do whatever you said as well…"

"Really? And when did she say that?"

"Oh…oh I shouldn't…she always said that. To us. For awhile. But I don't remember, she doesn't want any of us to remember…" Brin looked frustrated. "They never used to make us forget anything in Bism except if we did something so dreadful we had to forget, but her majesty isn't at all like the…the…" he cut off abruptly, and his eyes closed and head dropped, his chin resting for a moment on his chest. When he raised his head again, his eyes held the same blank stare as before. "My name is Brin, and I am here only to do my lady's bidding. What is it that you want?" His voice was monotone once again.

Rilian looked closely at the gnome. There was something he could learn, if he could just go about it the right way…this gnome was hiding something. Maybe the rest of them were, too. What else did she say? What else was there…

She mentioned a mad gnome in the dungeon…

It was unlike her to put anyone in the dungeon. She wasn't the type to lock anyone up, she wasn't the type to do anything cruel to someone who was ill…she said that he was mad, and madness was always considered a type of illness. Sara had been a healer. Maybe she still was, still did some healing. It seemed preposterous she'd put anyone in a dungeon if they were sick.

"Her majesty…" it felt extremely odd to say that still. "She mentioned a gnome kept in the dungeon, one who went mad…"

"Elder Thanagel," Brin whispered.

"May I see him?"

Brin stared disbelievingly at Rilian. "Why? Why do you want to see him?" he sounded almost defensive.

"Because I am curious. Would you deny me this, Brin?"

Brin looked away. "Of course not. I have my orders. And she said I must follow your orders. Here. I'll…show you…I will show you around the castle. And then eventually we will see the elder. But we must do it quickly before she returns. But she will be awhile. So let's go quickly!"

Brin spat the last sentence out like he was doing something terrible he wasn't supposed to, yet was doing it anyway. He peered around the door and into the hallway, and then sighed. "She's not here. Let's go."

Rilian didn't understand what sort of hold Sara had on these people if they were so terrified of her…but maybe it was better not to ask. He knew her, and sooner or later she would tell him. For now he would have to try and find the answers himself.

* * *

The dungeon was surprisingly well lit, all things considered.

"Her majesty doesn't often use the dungeon," muttered Brin. "We shouldn't even be here. We saw all the castle, can't we just go? We can go see the pier, at the Sunless Sea. It is a very nice pier. We all worked very hard on it." Brin was extremely nervous now. During the tour of the castle he was perfectly relaxed and accepting of his job, knowing he was obeying Sara's orders. It was clear that the last thing he wanted right now was for them to be caught here speaking with the mad gnome.

The castle was nice…it was surprisingly beautiful, created with a strange sort of refined elegance that he never expected from Sara. But there was something strange that he still couldn't quite label. He wasn't going to stop looking until he found it.

"We really should go," Brin's hand gripped Rilian's arm tight. "Right now. If she finds us here…"

"Brin," Rilian removed the gnome's hand. "I'm sure she won't mind."

"I'll be in trouble," Brin mumbled.

"I'll say it was my idea. She won't mind, I'm sure."

Brin said something else, but it was too low to make out the words.

"Now let me see this…"

"Thanagel. That's his name. If he remembers."

Rilian followed Brin to the end of the hall. There weren't any keys for the lock, and the door was tightly barred shut. The bars on the door were so close together it barely even looked like bars. There was a lock on the door, but no key…Brin only put his hand on the lock, then touched his forehead, and there was a mechanical click as the lock undid itself. Brin gave the door a small push and it opened.

The room inside was totally dark. The only light that could be seen was the light that spilled in from the open door, showing a small bed, a sink, and a few other odds and ends that belonged to the owner. The owner himself couldn't even be seen, there was only a low muttering from somewhere in the dark cell.

"If her majesty asks," Brin whispered. "It wasn't my idea. You insisted and I tried to stop you but you wouldn't be stopped!"

Suddenly a terrified wail broke through the darkness. "Close the door!" the voice cried hopelessly. "Close it! Close it! I don't want to see!"

Rilian turned to look at Brin, and Brin's eyes were wide as he glanced back at the prince.

"I told you," Brin said. "No one goes to see Elder Thanagel. That's why. Elder!" he called. "Elder, it's only Brin, you have a visitor."

"Visitor!" Thanagel's voice was high and shrill. "Is it Thark? Tell him he was late!"

Brin glanced apologetically at Rilian. "Sorry," Brin said. "Just say you're Thark, then maybe he'll talk to you. But keep him quiet, otherwise she'll hear us."

"Who is Thark?"

"Was Thark. He was Elder before Virk…but you didn't hear that from me!" Brin shook his head vigorously. "But I can tell you. Imagine that! I can tell you, but I can't remember any other time." Brin's eyes were suddenly bright. "Did you hear me? I remembered that Thark was elder. I never remembered that until now." Impulsively, he seized Rilian's hands. "Please tell me you'll stay. Her majesty says you will but I do hope you do, I remember all sorts of things when you're here. She doesn't let us know all this…"

"Close the door, Thark!" the voice caterwauled.

Rilian removed his hands from Brin's tight grasp. This was too strange for words. "I'm just going to go see to Thanagel now, Brin."

"Yes, yes, go ahead!" Brin broke into a wide smile. "I'll be right here. I'll let you know when she comes back and then we can both get out together, right? She'll never have to know. It'll be our own secret."

"Well…I suppose. I don't see why you want to keep secrets from her, but…"

"But this is a secret," Brin said seriously. "It's very important. If she finds out…just…don't let her! Go see Thanagel and then we'll go." Brin glanced nervously over his shoulder and turned sideways in the door, peering outside. "And hurry with it."

Rilian walked into the room. "Thanagel?" he called softly. "Elder Thanagel?"

"Elder?" Thanagel's voice was quieter now. "They called me that."

The creature called Thanagel shuffled out of the darkness, his outline barely showing against the minimal light shining through the doorway. Most of the light was blocked by Brin's body.

"Who are you?" Thanagel demanded.

"My name is Prince Rilian. I was told you were an honored elder here, I wanted to come see you."

"No one comes to see me," Thanagel said, sounding somewhat sad.

"And why is that?"

"Because all of them are gone," he said wistfully. "Thark is dead and Virk is gone and I don't know where I am. They don't call me elder anymore. You're the only one who called me that. I think I like you. I hope she does, or she'll throw you in here with me."

For a mad gnome, he sounded rather reasonable.

"I don't think she will. Why did she put you here, elder?"

"Because they call me elder and there are no elders," Thanagel whispered confidentially. "And I talked about Bism and there is no Bism either. Hers is the only world, don't you know that? And I talked about other worlds. That's not allowed."

"That sounds a bit absurd, don't you think? I mean, would she really do that?"

"She would do anything. She's the queen; she can do anything."

"When did she implement all these…rules?"

"It's always been that way," now Thanagel's mournful tone returned. "Don't you know anything? Her rules have always been here. This is her world and there doesn't exist anything else. That's what she tells us. And we know it is the truth because it is what she told us…"

"That sounds awful strange, coming from her…"

"Then you don't know the queen."

"Nonsense. I do. I've known her for awhile."

"No. Because then…" Thanagel took a step back, or at least it looked like it from the little he could see in the darkness. "You're the one she wanted," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"You. You're the prince, aren't you?"

"Yes…"

"Then it's your fault! You should go home! If you leave us then she'll be easier on us. She doesn't care about us. She only wants you. I'm not speaking to you anymore!" Thanagel wailed, and then there was a loud thud on the floor. "Not speaking! Not speaking!"

The door swung open and light filled the room. A thick beam of light hit Thanagel, and he screamed. He covered his eyes and collapsed on the floor, pressing his hands tight over his eyes and gibbering madly.

"Let me go back!" shrieked Thanagel. "Don't take me up there! Keep the sun away from me! Overworlders! Sky, empty sky, it's cold, the wind is cold, the stone is hard and dead, take it away, take it away!" his voice echoed off the stone walls, high and terrified.

"Brin, stand aside." Sara's voice was hard and level.

"I'm sorry, your majesty! I told him not to come down here! He insisted!" Brin said frantically. "It wasn't my idea. He wanted to see Elder Thanagel."

"What did you call him?" She asked softly.

"I…called him…oh."

"Elder Thanagel. Now, how could you possibly remember that?" Her voice was suddenly very sweet. "Why would you be so troubled as to remember Elder Thanagel? There is no reason to worry yourselves over elders, is there, Brin."

"No, your majesty." Brin said.

"Then don't worry about Thanagel anymore."

"No, of course not. I won't worry about Thanagel."

"Now, you are saying Rilian wanted to come down here?"

"Yes. He insisted. You must keep him, your majesty, even if he is from the Overworld, and I told him about Thark and Virk and…"

"Really." She sounded surprised. "Indeed. Well, don't think about them anymore, Brin. Thark is long gone, and Virk is busy with my work. Don't think of them. Don't worry about Rilian either. That's my job, Brin."

"Yes, of course. As you wish, your majesty." Brin returned to his monotone, expressionless voice. He stepped aside and Sara came in, seemingly not bothered by the screams of Thanagel, still rolling around on the floor.

"Thanagel,"

"I'm not going!" he shrieked. "Never! I'm going back where it is warm and safe and the earth protects you, I won't stay here!"

"Thanagel!"

It was the first time Sara had raised her voice since Rilian had arrived, and Thanagel stopped his gibbering at once.

She knelt in front of the gnome and pulled his hands away from his eyes. "Now, Thanagel," she said softly. "Why all this yelling? Certainly one such as yourself won't give over to yelling." She touched one hand to her necklace and another to Thanagel's forehead. "Don't yell. It won't help you."

Thanagel fell silent.

"And who ever told you that you were elder? You know there are no elders. And did I not ask you to forget about the overworld? It doesn't suit you to disobey my orders, Thanagel."

"No," Thanagel whispered.

"Good. And look, you're frightening the prince. I'm sure he wouldn't approve of your antics either."

"I want him to go home," Thanagel insisted.

"You want many things. We all want many things, Thanagel, and in due time all that we want will be realized. But I am disappointed in this outburst. I had thought better of you."

"My apologies, your majesty,"

"Don't do this again."

"I won't,"

"Go back now." She pointed. "And stay there. The overworld will not hurt you there."

"Okay." Thanagel said meekly. He stood up and walked slowly back over to his corner, and there was a muffled thump as he sat back down and started talking softly to himself. Sara stood up and sighed, pulling on the end of her hair.

"I am sorry about that, Rilian," she said. She walked back over to him and held up the lantern, blowing at it and letting it brighten the entire room. Thanagel gave a small whimper, but one look from Sara made him stop. "I didn't mean for you to see that. Poor Thanagel." She shook her head. "He found his way to the overworld with myself once, accidentally. Earthmen aren't meant to ever see the surface, and it left an most unfortunate permanent impression on his mind. You really shouldn't take anything he says to heart."

"He seemed sincere before. He was speaking normally to me, and seemed rather…sane."

"I assure you, Thanagel is anything but. I'm sorry you had to see that. But why are you down here? Brin says you insisted on coming. Didn't you, Brin?"

"I did, your majesty," Brin agreed. His eyes were dull now, his face blank. "It was not my idea."

"No, it wasn't. But I am disappointed that you let him take you down here. You should have stopped him. Go back to the front doors and wait for me."

"Of course. Right away, your majesty."

Rilian watched Brin leave. "What did Brin do wrong? He was a good fellow as well. He seemed honest. He was talking about a person named Thark and how happy he was that he remembered that person, he said you didn't want them to remember. There's something you're not telling me."

Sara looked over her shoulder and pressed her lips in a thin line. "There's nothing to tell. The Underland is not used to visitors, your visit is only disrupting them. But they will get used to it, don't worry about it. It just takes time. Everything takes time, Rilian, so you shouldn't worry either. What time is it?"

He blinked in surprise. "I don't know…I haven't been keeping track."

She took out her pocketwatch and examined it critically. "It's not been eight hours yet, has it? No, nearly, though. I'm sorry, eight hours is all I can afford to allow." She snapped the watch shut. "There is so much I still have to show you. Come with me."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

She stepped closer and before he could say anything further, she blew something into his face. It made him cough and sneeze for a moment, but only for a moment.

"You ask too many questions," she said, her voice low. "It's terribly unbecoming. Don't."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Then I won't ask anymore."

She smiled. "Very good. Now what is it that you wanted down here?"

"I…I don't remember,"

"Good. You really wouldn't want to come down here again, it's an awful place. Dungeons are only fit for murderers and thieves and madmen, and you are none of those things, my dear. Don't come here again."

"I won't. I don't want to. Not if you don't want me to." He added quickly.

"And I don't. Brin!"

Brin shuffled over so he was standing next to them. He glanced sideways at the prince, and their eyes met briefly. Something that once had been awareness passed over their faces for a moment, and a short memory of having met before, and having talked of something important, though Brin couldn't remember what it was and Rilian couldn't remember why it was important. Then a moment later it was no longer necessary to remember, and Brin looked away, and Rilian looked back at his lady.

"Now, Brin, don't go putting any ideas into the prince's head now. He isn't interested in what you have to say, are you, Rilian?"

"Of course not,"

"Good. Now, Rilian, we really must leave this dreadful place."

"It is dreadful," he agreed.

"Yes…but not all is like this. Dungeons are terrible, but I can show you places of wonder, beautiful places that will remain in your memory forever…if you give me the chance. Will you come with me?" she held her hand out.

"I will,"

"There are many injured from the collapse. I cannot do it all myself…well, I can, but it would take a terribly long time. Will you help me?"

"Yes,"

"Then come. The upper city is vast, and there is much to be done if we are to help any of those earthmen injured."

Sara turned and left, hearing Rilian and the two guards follow behind her. She kept her head down, a general indication that no one was to bother her, all the way to the lower city.

She had to do something about Brin. She had to do something about all of this, really…she hadn't anticipated what bringing Rilian here would actually _do. _He was an honest Narnian, and these creatures were creatures of Narnia, though they belonged to Bism far below. Still, it was his innate goodness that was causing…problems. Small shifts in the pattern that she set that if left unattended would get far worse. Brin's disobedience and Thanagel's momentary lapse into sanity were certainly indications of a fault in the design.

That would have to be fixed.

She could do it, of course. She had done great things, and changing small things like this shouldn't be a problem.

But Brin trusted Rilian. She couldn't let that happen. They'd have to give him the same thing they gave her…obedience. Not trust. She couldn't afford to let any of the earthmen trust Rilian unless she was with him.

Well, she could fix that, too.

The damage in the upper city was terrible. There were over a hundred and seven dead gnomes. The tunnel to the surface had collapsed and taken a good deal of the upper city with it. Idiot gnomes didn't find the fault until it was too late. From the looks of things, it would take months if not a year or more to built back up again.

She sent Brin away from both Rilian and Thanagel. She ensured that the gnome forgot all that happened, and as long as she kept them separate, she doubted there would be a problem again. Brin was in the worker's quarter now, a place far back in Underland where the rocks were mined to build the castle and other dwellings here. She didn't worry about him anymore, as the gnomes in that quarter never lasted very long.

And so the immediate problems were smoothed over in a few days, and the larger problems were on their way to being solved. It took her some time to realize that it could happen that way, that any problem in her kingdom could quickly be dealt with and cease to exist. Those years of mistakes and accidents were over. She had complete control, and if she didn't want to happen…it wouldn't. Everything could be changed with just a decision or a wave of her hand and corrected the same way. It all belonged to her now, to do as she wished.

She often shook her head at this, remembering how she used to fear such power. She had been foolish. That, too, was corrected now. Now Rilian was here, and the small problem that had emerged at the beginning was over, and so the strive towards perfection could now continue unhindered.


	25. Chapter 25

And so two weeks passed. The rebuilding was coming along quite nicely…granted, still more died after the initial collapse, but that was hardly important in the larger scheme of things. The diggings would start again soon, but not in that place…she'd have to find a more stable area for it. She set the Warden on that task, and he was busy with that.

She had forgotten entirely about Brin. He wasn't important to her anymore.

Two weeks passed in a dream. It was her own creation, and she was proud of it and all she had done here. She never looked Rilian directly in the eyes, for fear of seeing the enchantment she still left there, but it soon became a habit to turn away and she thought nothing of it. There was nothing else to think about, when for two weeks things were more wonderful and perfect then they had been in a long time. Every time she was with him, he could only talk to her, and promise her he'd never leave her again. He would stay here forever in this kingdom and stay by her side until the stars rained down from the heavens.

There was nothing greater she could ask for. It was too wonderful to hear him whisper to her again, hold her in his arms and assure her that it would all be fine, that this kingdom was perfect, everything both of them could have wanted. He said he never missed Narnia, never thought of it anymore…what Narnia, he would ask. What world is that?

It is nowhere, she would tell him. Don't worry your mind with it anymore.

And he wouldn't.

Two weeks passed and he hardly mentioned Narnia at all, only when she brought it up, and they would talk as before, about the things that went on back at home, and how much he often detested it all and was so much more at peace here with her.

She didn't keep him enchanted all the time. After all, she was not a goddess, only a great and powerful enchantress. She allowed him time free during the day, time to himself…seven hours seemed about right. She left him in the castle with orders to the guards not to let him out, and she kept herself busy during those hours. She had enough to keep her busy where it didn't matter, and by the time she returned, she renewed the enchantment before he could say anything.

It was only that moment that she felt most unsure, but it passed quickly. For a moment their eyes would meet, and he would open his mouth to demand something of her…but before he could, she refreshed the enchantment, and his eyes would slide away and take on that slightly odd, unfocused look, and then he would forget what he was going to say.

It was wonderful. It was life, it was what she had wanted for the longest time. And two weeks passed without notice.

* * *

Two guards stood at the entrance, just as they had every day since he came here.

"I'm sorry, but her majesty's orders," one of them said, shrugging. "You aren't allowed out. This is what she said, and her word is law."

"I don't care about her cursed word!"

The two guards blinked, but were otherwise unfazed by the prince's shouting. He shouted more lately, but it went past them all.

"We obey her word," replied the first guard. "Nothing we can do to change that. Her word is law."

Law. This was utterly absurd. This all was. Rilian didn't know how much time had passed…weeks, he knew, but he didn't know how many, for everyone refused to tell him. They would avert their eyes and change the subject, only telling him that he himself had said he didn't care how much time passed, that he wanted to spend his life in the court of their queen. He insisted that they let him go, that he wanted to get back home…but they never believed him. Why would they, they would all say patiently, when you yourself have told us you desire never to return home?

He never said that. He didn't tell them anything of the sort. Accursed gnomes, why did they want to keep him here?

Sara wouldn't answer any of his questions either. He had tried to get her to say something…anything…but she never did. She would leave, and the entire day he wouldn't be able to find her, no matter where he looked. Then she would return, only for a moment…and then he couldn't remember anything for the longest time, and the next time he opened his eyes she was gone. What was going on? No one told him. And so much time had passed…but how much? And what of back home? Was anyone looking for him? Where _was _home, from this place? It was all so confused, even more jumbled than back in Narnia.

For a moment he was so sure the strange madness that had afflicted him before was gone. That moment passed…now he was almost certain he was mad. It was the only explanation for having said things he couldn't remember saying, for having entire moments in his mind that he could not recall. It had to be.

The guards knew something. Why else were they refusing to let him out?

"Fine. Fine, it's her orders, whatever you say. At least…do you know one called Brin?"

"Brin? Yes," one of the guards nodded.

"Can you bring him here?"

There was a long pause as the guards stared at each other. Rilian hadn't asked them anything else before this…only if he could leave, which of course they denied. Sara had given them orders on that. But could he ask something else? He had a right to know what was going on, curse them all. He was the prince of Narnia, even if he was losing his mind. He remembered Brin from the first day, and…well, Brin seemed willing to tell him things back then, maybe he could again. It was worth a try, as Sara seemed…never here, as far as he could tell.

"She didn't say not to," the guard whispered.

"But she didn't say we were allowed," replied the other.

"No, she only said he wasn't allowed to leave. She didn't say he couldn't talk to anyone…"

"Should we get Brin, then?"

"You do it."

"No, you do it."

"It was your idea."

"Fine. I'll go." The second guard glared briefly at Rilian and then disappeared down the dark streets. They were lit only by a strange phosphorescent glow that came from something that had the semblance of streetlights. It wasn't enough to fully light the roads, and only made them shine odd and eerie in the night, if this was even night.

The first guard crossed his spear in front of him.

"You don't have to do that," Rilian told the guard. "I'm not going to try and leave. I'm just going to wait for Brin."

The guard didn't believe it, obviously, and remained firmly where he was.

It took awhile before the second guard returned with Brin. Brin didn't look the same…his clothes were tattered, the royal dress he had worn before gone, and so was his three pronged spear and the small cuffs of silver he had around each wrist. His head was down, and his arms were limp at his sides.

"Here is Brin," the guard replied. "But keep it short. We found him in the workers' quarter, or what's left of him." He pushed Brin down, and the earthman fell to his knees and then into a motionless heap on the floor. "All the worst of them are in that quarter. Her majesty's orders. That's where they all go to die." He sounded completely toneless when he said that, as if the death of workers meant very little to him.

"Thank you." Rilian knelt down in front of Brin. "Brin? Brin, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

Brin rolled over, blinking bewildered eyes at the prince.

"What?" Brin's voice was hoarse.

"What did they do to you, Brin?"

"Do I know you?" Brin asked, confused.

"Yes, don't you remember me? Prince Rilian. I was the one that your queen brought back here…"

"I don't remember," Brin sounded despairing.

"You do. Here, it'll just…why don't you come with me? You look terrible. What have they been doing to you?"

The guards stepped away, leaving Brin and Rilian alone. Neither of them wanted to get anywhere close to Brin, knowing that he was one of the ones sentenced to the worker section, and that everyone who went there died sooner or later. It was bad luck to be around people like that for long.

"I work," Brin replied. "What's wrong with that? It is my sentence,"

"What sentence? Brin, you didn't do anything."

Brin's eyes darted around the room, and then he sat up, looking directly at Rilian. He stared for awhile like that, seemingly blank, before his brow furrowed. "Do I know you?"

"Yes, you do. We met before, though I'm unsure of how long ago."

"Oh…you were…" Brin nodded slowly. "You were her majesty's prince,"

"Good! I'm glad you remember me now, Brin. I certainly remember you, and that's why I called you here. I wanted to see you, Brin, as you're one of the few people that I remember."

"That's good," Brin's voice slid away for a moment. "Yes! You were here a long time ago! That's why I was sentenced!" Brin stood up, swaying on his feet. "That's why! I remember!"

Rilian stood as well. Brin's behavior had always been odd, distinctly different from the emotionless faces and expressions of the other earthmen and the blind subservience of Mullugutherum. If there was anyone who could give him an honest answer, it was this strange earthman.

"I'm glad you do, Brin. Why were you sentenced? Who sentenced you?"

Brin blinked several times. "Can't tell…you…" he glanced towards the guards. "Can't! I can't, I…" He pressed his hands to his head. "Go away!" he almost screeched. "Go away! Go…" his hands fell away, and a smile suddenly crossed his face. "She's not paying attention to me!" he said. He took several steps closer to Rilian, so close they were nearly touching. "She's not thinking of me. She's not noticing me. Let's…walk…somewhere!" Brin's voice was so strangely desperate that Rilian agreed to do that, glancing briefly back at the guards before walking through the lit passageways into different parts of the castle with Brin.

The further they got from the guards, the more Brin spoke. He kept looking at Rilian as if the prince were the only thing in the world keeping Brin from whatever terror he had in his mind.

"Now Brin," Rilian said, slowly, when he figured they were a safe distance from the guard. "Why were you sentenced?"

Brin looked nervously around him. "It was her majesty's decision," he said confidentially. "She saw me talking to you. I disobeyed her orders by taking you to Elder Thanagel…I mean…Thanagel, because there aren't elders anymore. She was very angry because…" he grinned. "Because I remembered to call Thanagel an Elder, and no one is allowed to do that anymore. It's because of you, don't you know. When you're here, I know what I'm talking about. Not all the time…only…only now. She was so angry. She wouldn't let me see anything for days."

"Who, Sara?"

He blinked. "The queen,"

"Her name is Sara. Don't you call her that?"

He looked at Rilian as if calling the queen by her real name was the most absurd thing in the entire Underland. "No," he replied. "Never. She's our queen, that would be…disrespectful. We don't want to make her angry, like I did. She didn't want me doing that to you, and so she put me with the workers when she let me have my sight back. I'm going to die there. Everyone dies when they work on the tunnels…"

"What tunnels?"

"I shouldn't have said that!" Brin clapped his hands over his mouth, his eyes widening in terror. "Forget I mentioned it! She will kill me for sure!"

There was no one else in the entire hall, and it felt like the whole castle was empty when Sara wasn't there. It was his only chance. He gripped Brin's arms, forcing the earthman to look right at him.

"Brin," he said, calmly. "I want you to tell me why you are so afraid of Sara when as far as I've known her, she wasn't given to any cruelties or hurtful actions. I want to know what these tunnels are for, and…you know more than you let on. Why am I here, Brin?"

"Hasn't she told you?" Brin's voice was no more than a terrified whisper.

"No, she hasn't, and that's why I'm asking you. If she won't tell me, I was determined to find someone who would. I'm not a fool, Brin. I know something is wrong."

Brin shivered. "There is," he whispered.

"What? Tell me,"

"No…she'll kill me…"

"I'll tell her not to. Does she listen to me?"

Brin nodded.

"Then you have my word. I won't let her do any of those things. Now tell me…"

Brin's mouth opened and closed, and it seemed an absolute struggle for him to bring the words to his lips. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and shaky and barely audible.

"She's going to keep you here forever," he said. "She's not going to let you go home. She's taking your mind, like she did with all the rest of us. The tunnel is for…your world. Your Narnia. She doesn't like Narnia," Brin shook his head vigorously. "She tells us all the time how much she hates it, and how much better it will be when she takes it over. That's what the tunnel is for. She's ordered us all to dig, and we're going to dig until we reach the surface…in your Narnia…and then…have you seen the army? She has one. It's vast. She's making Elder Virk command it. She's going to use it and take over your world, and kill…the king…and keep you with her forever and rule your world. That's what we're all here doing. She's making a kingdom so she can take _yours. _And kill everyone in your world so she can make it the way she wants to…" Brin's voice tapered away, and he jerked his arms out of Rilian's grasp. "She's going to work us until we all die, as long as she makes it to the surface. I don't know what lady you know, my lord, but our queen is a vicious tyrant who will kill us all to achieve what she wants…" Brin backed away slowly. "And now she's going to kill me because she doesn't have my mind anymore. If I stay with you I'll keep it, but she's going to find out and she's going to kill me! I don't want to die!" Brin wailed.

Rilian let go of the earthman, and Brin fell to the ground with a wail.

_She's making a kingdom so she can take yours. And kill everyone in your world so she can make it the way she wants to._

No, that was completely impossible. Sara was an honest healer, she was a lady who happened to come by a kingdom by whatever strange means brought it to her. She wasn't…a tyrant. Why…why would she want to take over Narnia? She always said how little interest she had in it, how content she was with her Harfang and all that in the north. She wouldn't…kill the king…

He looked back at Brin, who was cringing away from the door in fear. The earthman was so terrified…of what? Sara wasn't a witch.

"I want to be sure you're not lying, Brin," Rilian said slowly. "I don't want you to lie to me."

"Would I lie?" asked Brin. "No. No, I'd never lie."

"Then…"

"You have to get out of here," Brin insisted. "Quickly! If you stay here, she'll make it so that you can never leave. She always told us how important it was to have you here. You have to go. Get past the guards, find a way out right now, before she returns!"

Brin's terror was real. His words may be false, but he seemed to really believe them, with an insistence that was almost impossible and improbable.

"Just go," Brin pointed towards the door. "Go, get out of here!" He sounded too afraid to be lying…but could people be afraid of lies? Of course they could. The gnome had to be lying. Sara would never do any of that.

"What is going on here?"

"Guards!" hissed Brin. "They're coming because I remember! She's going to kill me! You have to go before she finds out…" Brin pushed Rilian with great effort, and he stumbled towards the door.

The guards had reached the door by this point, and both had crossed their spears in front of them, blocking the exit.

"What is going on here?" demanded the first, his voice still toneless but gruff.

"Is Brin causing trouble? No wonder, never trust any of those from the worker district…"

"What lies is he telling you?"

Brin cringed away from the two guards and covered his face. "Don't tell her majesty!" he peeked through two fingers back at Rilian. "Just get out of here before she gets back," he added, trying to be quiet, though the guards obviously noticed.

The guards exchanged glances. One of them hauled Brin to his feet and started marching him out the door, ignoring his violent protests. The other touched the spear lightly to Rilian's back, not enough to cause any damage but enough to be uncomfortable.

"Back to the room with you," he said. Rilian had no choice but to follow him, back up the numerous stairs and into his room. They had already put Brin there by the time Rilian arrived, and Brin's hands and feet were tied.

"What did Brin say to you? Bloody fool he is, you shouldn't listen to anything that he says."

"He lies," agreed the second guard.

Brin only whimpered, struggling in vain against the cords.

"I told him the truth," Brin finally said, withering under the guards' sharp glares. "What her majesty has planned."

"What? Which one of her great plans?" the guard said. "She has many great plans, Brin, and you don't do well to demean them."

"All of them! That she's going to take us…to the Overworld…"

There was a brief shudder as the guards thought of the Overworld, but it quickly passed.

"It is her will," the second guard said. "It is not our job to question her will. If her will is that we tunnel through to the Overworld and kill their lord, then that is what we must do." The guard shrugged. "It is what she wants of us."

"Really," It was obvious that Rilian didn't believe any of them.

"Yes," the first guard nodded sagely. "This is her great plan, and we do not speak up against it, and neither do you. But you won't, because she is going to keep you here forever. Such is her will."

The second guard hauled Brin to his feet. "Now, away with you," the guard said gruffly, waiting for Brin to get his balance before leading him out the door. The other guard rushed after Brin, muttering something about how dangerous people like that should stay in the workers' quarter forever and not bother all the honest folk elsewhere. They closed the door behind them and once again the room was silent.

This was preposterous. That was the only word Rilian could think of…completely preposterous, absurd, and far too strange for his liking. Things in Narnia were always very straightforward…if something was going on, it was obvious to tell. Here he couldn't get a handle on anything. He had barely seen Sara since the first day, and now these gnomes were telling him that she was planning complete domination of Narnia, going to kill his father and keep Rilian himself prisoner here forever.

If there was anything in the world that was absurd, it was certainly _that. _Sara had always been an odd girl, but she was a healer…and failing that, she was Harfang's lady, the first to tame the wild giants of the north. None of that constituted world domination…it wasn't in her nature to do anything like that. The last time they had met…no, there was still too much of a healer in Sara for her to do anything vicious like that.

Still, she killed someone once.

But he didn't know why, and to this day he didn't. She killed that Shrew back at home, but maybe it was in self defense, maybe it was for some other reason he didn't know. But she looked horrified when she had done it…he could remember her face, white and pale through all the blood…she was terrified of that.

He had perhaps long since put out the quavering words she had said from his mind…her unsure yet thorough insistence of…_he deserved it, he deserved to be killed…_

Still. She never had any interest in conquering anything. Yet there was a lot she wasn't telling him in this time he had been here, though he didn't know how long that was either.

But that wasn't anything like her. He didn't understand what was wrong with these strange gnomes and their insistence that she was their great queen and they had to obey her every wish.

This was absurd. These gnomes, their blind obedience to her, their boldly telling him preposterous plans that she would never make. It was too strange, it didn't make any sense, and Rilian was very tired of being confused.

He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, thinking. He was going to leave, he decided right there. Surely there had to be a way back to Narnia from here. She mentioned it once…there were numerous tunnels leading back to the surface. Surely there was one she used when she went back to Harfang…that one would be the easiest to find. It would probably be more worn than the others and have some sort of marker to show the way. He could get there…there was a pier, wasn't there? Yes, and boats. He'd take a boat to the other side of the Sea and there he was sure to find the tunnel that would take him home.

It was a simple enough plan. It had to in some way be considered an escape plan, wasn't it? But that too was another equally absurd thought…he wasn't a prisoner here, at least not the way she spoke. Yet the guards treated him as such, saying he belonged to the queen, refusing to let him leave the castle while she was gone, and being so reluctant to let him see Brin.

It all didn't match up.

Either way, he was leaving. He was going to leave before this got any stranger, or, even worse, before it decided to make sense.

She said he wasn't a prisoner, or at least she gave no indication of it. If she was their queen, then it was her words that were truthful, not the words of these obviously mad gnomes. Yes…yes, of course, that was it. It was the gnomes that were mad, not him. They were the ones saying all this nonsense. He was perfectly clearheaded.

Rilian opened the door and started purposefully down the corridor. Several gnomes stopped to stare at him, but none of them moved from their spots or appointed tasks. After all, he was the queen's guest. There was no reason for them to be suspicious of anything. He was thankful he remembered the way to the entrance, and at the moment there were no guards there…they had just left their post, and he could see them walking back to a different part of the castle. He waited patiently while they left, and then opened the doors and walked out into the city.

This was _not _an escape. He kept telling himself this, over and over, as he walked through the dark streets of the city. He was merely…leaving the city, with the intention perhaps of returning on a different day completely of his own volition.

He'd return once he found his way back home and knew exactly where this was, and was far away from the mad gnomes. He'd write to Sara and apologize for his quick departure and ask if they could meet again under better circumstances. When he got home he would find a genuine healer…maybe even Nirisath…and try to find out the reason for the strange madness that had gripped him for awhile now. He still couldn't place it, and a part of him felt perhaps he didn't want to understand it. Maybe ignorance would be better. Maybe the madness would disappear, maybe it was a momentary thing brought on by the death of his mother…

No! He wouldn't think of her death, not now, not here! Right now he just had to get out of the city. He had to find the path, find the piers, try to get by the gnomes' prying eyes that peered accusingly at him from every corner…

This _wasn't _an escape. Stop _thinking _of it like that, he insisted as he found his way through the streets that twisted through the city. They were all dimly lit, the only light coming from streetlights that glimmered with an unnatural white glow not bright enough to see anything more than a few feet in front of you. The earthmen moved past him, carrying lanterns that had the same sickly light to them. From the top of the castle the Underland did look beautiful, with the lights glimmering all over the city, looking just like any city back at home. But the lights that could be seen from the castle were far different here in the actual city…they were dimmer and dull, just as distant as the faces behind them.

The gnomes all ignored him for the most part. They were too busy going about their work to notice him leaving. But there were several others…all with the three-pronged spears…that gave him strange looks as he passed. They whispered to one another, and briefly pointed, and then one of them would vanish on some path that wasn't lit at all and the other would remain where he was.

But for some reason it felt terribly much like escaping…trying to avoid the eyes of the ones he recognized as guards, trying to act purposeful but distant like the rest of them, and trying to pretend that he wasn't going against whatever strange decree they had in this unnatural land.

Most of the roads he found led to the pier. There were several that led to the workers' district, but he was turned from those by the guard informing him in that same flat, dead voice that all the rest of them had that he didn't want to go this way, only the worst and the condemned were put down this road.

The waves lapped on the dock and even that was strangely quiet.

This whole place was. No city in the world should be quiet, especially not at the pier. There should be ships coming and going…which there were, but they were all quiet ships that barely made a noise except when their hulls scraped the dock as they ran aground. They moved about with that same silent purpose, holding their dim lanterns in front of them and unloading the boats. It wasn't right.

A guard looked right at him. The guard's face twitched for a moment and so did its oversized ears, and the he pointed to Rilian and said something to another guard. Then his arm fell back at his side, and he shrugged, and they both seemed to ignore Rilian…but it was obvious he wasn't being ignored. They had seen him, and they knew he wasn't supposed to be out here.

It was preposterous. It still was. But now it was most definitely an escape, albeit a completely ridiculous one that shouldn't even be counted as such…

There was a small boat at the pier, tied up and unused. He climbed into it and untied the knot, and surprisingly the boat shot off across the water completely of its own accord. It must have been spelled, like practically everything else in this kingdom. He looked behind him, clutching the sides of the boat to keep himself from falling out, as he watched the pier quickly vanish into the distance, the lights becoming no more than pin pricks in the darkness. The water was black, and the further he got from shore the more he realized…that…there was nothing else out here. There was only a dim lantern in this boat, and the water…the terribly dark water that was icy cold as it sprayed into his face.

Halfway across the Sea…at least, he assumed it was halfway…the boat started slowing down. Clearly the magic was wearing off the further he got from the shore. It slowed…and slowed even more…and finally it stopped altogether.

Rilian's first instinct was to grab the dim lantern and hold it over his head. The light was still on, though it too was fading fast…was that the magic fading? Or was it the fact that the boat had gone so fast that the water was putting it out? Rilian was wet through by the freezing water, and hoped very much to get to the other side and find the passage soon, before the light went out, and before he caught pneumonia from the cold and the darkness of this place. Did darkness cause pneumonia? No, but the dampness would, and the cold would, didn't it? He couldn't remember.

There was nothing here but water, and the water stretched out into the distance in all directions…he knew the shore was behind him, but how far did he have to go to find the other shore? Was there even a right way? This was stupid, completely idiotic, especially soaking wet and with the lantern about to go out. He should have found a map, who cared if that made other people suspicious.

Was there any way to get the boat moving again? Yes, there was one he could use. But it was still ridiculous, the idea of him rowing a cursed boat this far underground. It was as ridiculous as the twenty armed woman in the tapestry back in that strange dark castle.

Well, there was no other way to get this boat moving. As long as he got out and back home safely, they didn't have to know _how. _After all, it would most likely be told in some ridiculously heroic manner, because that's what they did in Narnia. No one had to know. He had to get out of here, and if that involved paddling, then so be it.

He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see a boat approaching, or someone else coming…anything. A guard. Several guards. A whole plethora of guards chasing after him, their muttered words turning into full shouts. What would they do? Would they do anything? Either way…oh they were certainly coming after him, he was sure of it at that moment…and when they found him, maybe they would kill him…they'd be so angry they'd drive their three pronged spears into his heart and leave him to die on the shore…

That image was so vivid and terrifying that he immediately stuck the oar in the water and started rowing, trying to get away from the shore, as far away into the blackness that would cover him and let him get out of here as soon as possible…

But after an hour of this, he had to stop. He was exhausted, and there was a huge difference between lifting a sword and fighting with it and rowing a small boat in a lake for an extended period of time. He collapsed back into the boat, lying on his back, soaking wet by this point, with the lantern flickering madly in the darkness as the boat rocked back and forth.

Where was this, even? Was he finding his way to the opposite shore, or was he getting lost…terribly lost, doomed to wander forever in a black lake until he died of thirst or starvation? Maybe that's what the guards wanted. They were whispering to each other, telling each other to leave him alone and let him get so lost he'd die out on this terrible dark lake.

He wanted to keep moving, but he was too tired. There was no shore in sight, and he didn't have a compass that could help him somehow determine the right way.

Well, this was stupid. So much for Narnian heroism. Narnian prince died underground in a mysterious black lake because he forgot to take a map or a compass or anything useful. Wouldn't Stalis be proud…Stalis was a great tracker, and he would shake his head sadly and say something about how disappointed he was that Rilian forgot all of his training and perished in a black lake. That was, if they ever found him. Or he could just die in the lake and his body would rot in the boat until someone found it…probably one of those mad gnomes…and then they'd go ahead and burn it and no one would ever find anything of what happened to him.

No, such thoughts had to stop. Being morbid did absolutely nothing. Sitting here thinking morose things wouldn't help this attempted escape. There was still a chance. He had to keep trying.

He sat back up and renewed his rowing.

A half hour later, there was still nothing. He was no more close to his goal than he was before. He still couldn't see anything and now…and now there was still _nothing. _The nothing was even more bothersome than the paddling. Wasn't someone supposed to be chasing after him? That's what they looked like they were going to do! Before they forbid him even to leave the castle, and now that they didn't…ought they to be chasing? Some sort of pursuit, even? The lack of pursuit was ten times worse than if it actually happened…the waiting, the wondering, the…the strange hope that it _would, _just to give direction and some semblance of normalcy! It was too dark and quiet here, and he felt he was the only person alive in this entire Underland.

And after another half hour of this, and _still _nothing, he was completely lost, and now almost wanting an escape just to give him direction. And bored.

The boredom made no sense, really. But it was as if all the adrenaline had been entirely depleted by the bleak scene and left him sitting in a boat with no idea where he was, tired from paddling, drenched with all the water, and bored. Bored with waiting and not having any idea where to go. Bored because…this was an escape! Escapes were supposed to be daring and exciting and have people to run away from, to evade capture, to hide from…it didn't involve sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake with nothing else around!

The shore had to be there somewhere. It had to be…

He had to keep going.

Twenty minutes later, the boat ran aground.

Rilian didn't move for a minute once he felt the boat scrape the shore and heard the familiar sound of gravel against wood. He only closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, and then groped for the lantern which was now almost completely out and stood up. There. He had found something. There was a shore, and no one was chasing after him. He didn't even know if this was the right way, but it was a _shore, _it had to count for something!

He stepped out of the boat and onto the ground. He had to get out of this preposterous land before anything stranger happened, even though he had no idea where to go from here.

There had to be a tunnel. He held the lantern up in front of him, but it barely gave off any light. Maybe this was the wrong shore. Maybe he had drifted and hit the western shore instead of the furthest one from the pier. He reached out a hand in front of him and took several steps, and then more, and then…then he felt his hand brush cold stone. Oh, maybe it _was _the wrong shore, and there weren't any tunnels here at all, just a blank stone face and nothing else to be found. And no way to get the lantern started again! Curse this all!

A light went on. Then another. Then several more.

Rilian squinted as the light came on, startled and blinded by the sudden brightness after all that darkness. His eyes watered in the light and for a moment he couldn't see anything.

Then several faces came into view…guards. Gnomes, with their spears and their solemn, expressionless faces…twenty of them, perhaps, all giving him the same look. Guards. People.

For an even stranger moment he felt relieved, almost thankful that there was someone here! Guards, real guards, with lanterns and their spears…now this was an escape! A proper escape. He breathed a sigh of relief, because this could be dealt with…fighting the guards off, taking their lanterns and maybe searching for a map. Surely they had one on them.

"You're to come with us," the first guard said, leaving no room for Rilian to say anything else. "You are under arrest for attempting to escape against Her Majesty's orders, and we must bring you back to the queen immediately."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," Rilian replied as calmly as possible. "I have no intention of returning. Now if you would be so kind as to give me one of your lanterns and show me a way out of here, I will be glad to depart before any harm comes to you and your people."

"I repeat, we have orders." The guard stepped forward, bringing the spear in front of him and at the ready. "We are to bring you back immediately."

"And I have no intention of cooperating."

The guard nodded at two of the others. "Then we will have no choice but to bring you back by force."

For some reason, this made Rilian more furious than anything else they had done so far. They thought they could bring _him _back against his will! He was the prince of Narnia, and was not someone to be dragged about by gnomes in a land he didn't even know how he got to! He wouldn't take this anymore!

"Then come and try!" he snarled, drawing his sword.

Three guards rushed forward with their spears immediately. He swung forward, striking one of the guards on the back of the head with the flat of his sword. He wouldn't kill any of them. A second came and he ducked under the spear that was aimed at his head and instead dodged to the left and sliced, managing to cut behind the knee tendons of one of them. But there were so many guards, and they all came forward at once…he managed to take another one down, and then a third, a fourth…and then he felt the dull side of the spear connect with the base of his neck.

All at once, the guards' faces swam before him. He fell to the ground, the sword clattering next to him, all ideas of fighting forgotten in an instant. He felt dizzy and faint, and now it was just a struggle to stay upright…a struggle that failed. His arms were too tired to support his weight as he tried to push himself up off the ground, and he collapsed, feeling only the cold stone beneath his cheek. Curse this. Curse this, he failed, he couldn't escape now…but maybe he could at least…just sleep…

He felt rough hands pulling him up.

"Take him," the guard ordered. "We have to take him before the queen straightaway. Put him in the boat."

"But look," a hand touched the back of his head, and he felt a horrible shattering pain lance through his skill. He closed his eyes tight, but that did absolutely nothing to stop it. He tried to protest, but didn't even have the strength to do that, and the pain was too horrible that all he could manage was a weak choking sound.

"That's not good," the guard said.

"Then get him to the queen faster. She'll know what to do."

"Fine."

Rilian wasn't entirely sure what happened next. He knew he was moving, but by this point he was fading in and out of consciousness and could barely grasp what was happening in front of him. There were guards and occasionally they would talk, but for the most part only remained deathly silent. Too quiet. Never a good thing. And he was cold. The guards never spoke now. Silence. Too much silence. And they were moving, and he wished they would stop moving. They didn't. They kept moving.

"Now get up," something pushed him to his feet and he staggered and was about to fall again when whoever it was grabbed his shoulders and held him upright. "Don't fall. Her Majesty will not be happy if you are harmed further in any way."

As long as they helped him move. He couldn't walk. Didn't want to. Wasn't he trying to escape? Yes, he should try that again…for a moment he managed to tear himself from their grasp, the remembrance of escaping so strong in his mind that he forgot the horrible pain. He only took a few steps before nearly falling again, unable to figure out which was the ground and which was the sky, and they all melted together in a horrible way that made him ill.

Then there were lights. Lights, moving through something large, and too many colors…he closed his eyes because the lights were too painful and so were the colors. That many colors shouldn't be allowed. Get rid of them.

The door opened. That was good. Maybe then he could escape, once the door was…opened…or something.

"What is it, Morpal?" a voice floated out of the room. It was a lovely voice, melodious, and that person had to be a good singer, surely. "I'm busy, if you can't already tell. Ican needs ten stitches and I'm almost done, unless you want this head wound to gape right open and bleed all over the floor, which is what will happen unless I finish these stitches. Want that to happen, Morpal? I certainly don't. So let me finish before you come to me."

"It's urgent, your majesty."

"Well, then tell me quickly. But…ah, hold on, and don't you move, Ican, I'm almost done." There was a long pause, and the colors were all blending together with the light in some horrible way and they wouldn't _stop. _He was tired. They wouldn't let him sleep. They kept holding him upright. It was ridiculous. They should just let him go and let him escape.

"There. Ican, you're done. Come back to me in a week and I will take the stitches out."

There was a soft sound as someone brushed past Rilian, nearly knocking him to the ground. Then he was being moved again by someone…and then the hands let him go. He tried to stand on his feet, but that didn't seem to be working. He collapsed onto the floor, which was richly carpeted, and the carpet was so soft and the color was dark and soothing. Now he would sleep, if they let him.

Then he heard her speak again.

"What…what is this?" her voice was a whisper, but he could still hear it.

"He was trying to escape, your majesty," the guard said. "He stole a boat from the dock and was trying to get to the tunnels on the other side. We caught him before he could do that and brought him back to you. He was trying to fight off all of us and was very nearly succeeding him, and it was all quite dangerous. But we brought him to you, your majesty."

"Escape?" she sounded disbelieving. "And…what have you done to him, Morpal? If you have harmed him, I shall have to kill you, you know."

Rilian struggled to sit up again, and this time managed to, with the help of what he assumed was the queen they were talking about. He could barely see her through the dizziness, and the sudden movement made him sick. She moved too fast and all he could tell was she was a blotch of green on his vision.

"Oh dear," she said. "Morpal, I am afraid that I will have to have you killed anyway."

"I brought him back to you!" protested Morpal.

"Yes, but he has a terrible concussion, and he would have died if you hadn't brought him to me immediately. I cannot allow that, Morpal. Stand over there."

Then he felt her hand touch the back of his head, and it sent a shock of dizziness through his body. He couldn't see anything anymore, and a wave of nausea clenched at his stomach. He leaned to the side and vomited over the carpet, feeling dreadful and wanting so desperately to sleep but no one was letting him, and now he was shaking so violently he couldn't control it. Was he going to die? Yes…yes he was…he struggled to draw a breath but all he could taste was the sour taste of vomit.

"I shall have them killed," he heard the queen whisper. "Every one of them. My poor dear, look at what they did to you, and for no reason, either! Here, let me help you." She touched his head again, and this time…and said something…and he felt the dizziness abate, the clarity return to his vision…gradually the sickness stopped too, and everything was there again. The horrible stabbing pain and vanished from his head, and all he could see was the dark maroon carpet and the queen's green dress.

He looked up, able to see properly again…and Sara's dress was an unnatural green color, so vivid and impossible that it seemed to…put the grass to shame…

"It will take several days for that to heal," she said, pushing the wet hair out of his face. "I am sorry that had to happen to you, Rilian, but those guards can be completely unreasonable, no matter what I do. Here, they strike you with a spear…and what for!" he saw her hands and they were bloody, covered in his blood…he had seen her bloody hands before…there was something…wrong…

How did he remember that?

On the grass, outside. She was laughing and saying something…and he could just make out the words if he thought hard enough…

"Now what made them do this?" she asked. "And why are you so wet? Going down to the Sea, are you? Has the pier fallen in?"

"No," he was surprised to hear his voice. It sounded strange to his ears, harsh and very present. "No. I did…I did…"

He struggled to form the thoughts, and was surprised to find now they actually came clear to his mind. Oh, she would never take him seriously now. He was a complete mess. But he had to try.

"No, I did steal a boat," he said finally. "I went down to the pier and stole a boat and I was going to the other side to find the tunnel you spoke of that led to the surface. I do not know what is going on, Sara, and I wasn't intending to stay around and find out. I never see you here, yet you seemed on that first day…whenever that was…so adamant on having me here. And then the guards were saying something so utterly preposterous about you planning to take over Narnia, and kill my father, and keep me here…it made absolutely no sense. I know you're a healer and Harfang's lady, and now you have this kingdom here, but you…I can't ever see you doing something like that. I told them you were a healer but none of them believed me. I don't even know how long I've been here, but none of this made sense and I was not going to stay and wait for it to do so. I was going home, Sara, even though I was foolish and didn't bring a map and find out how exactly I could get home. Yes. I was leaving."

As soon as he said that, she drew away from him. He swayed for a moment, terribly exhausted, going to fall over and sleep this time. There was surprise in her eyes, shock and some sort of sadness…or at least that's what he thought it might be.

She looked familiar. And it wasn't just the fact that he knew her…it was another sort of familiarity that he couldn't place, and he had to think of it, lest he lose it…

"You were going to leave?" she asked. "Why would you do that, my dear, after all that I have done for you? Have I not made this kingdom to your liking and provided you with everything you could have wished for? Is this not suitable for you?"

"Sara, it's beautiful, really, but I don't understand what's going on and none of it makes sense. The gnomes were being preposterous, I didn't…"

"And you were going to leave. Without saying goodbye." She shook her head slowly. "Why, when I have provided everything for you, when I have given you all you could have wanted? Why would you leave me like that?"

"I was intending to…"

"You always did that, you know. You left me, you never said anything else…always just leaving! And look, would anyone else do for you what I have done? I healed you when my gnomes didn't even know what a concussion was. You are here on my floor, soaking wet and vomiting on the ground, and I have stayed with you. And you were going to leave! Without a goodbye, without a single explanation…oh, Rilian." she turned away, her lips pressed tight together. "I am very tired of it. I simply cannot have it anymore." She waved her hand in the air.

"Sara, I have no idea…what are you talking about?"

Lightly, she reached out a hand and laid it on his forehead. "I can't let this happen anymore," she said softly. "I will not allow it, not here." Then he smelled something sweet and drowsy, something that spoke all too quickly to the part of him desperate to sleep. His muscles ached with exhaustion and he felt empty and dead, and the smell called him into a sweet sleep, without dreams. "Let this be the end. Go to sleep, my prince. You are still terribly sick and need time to heal. And then I will fix this. It is in my power to do, and then you will not have any of these worries again, any of these unfortunate thoughts of escape. Sleep now, Rilian."

Her voice was just as drowsy as the smell, and his eyelids drooped and his head fell forward. He still had to ask her questions and demand she answer them, and he still had to try and leave, but he was just too exhausted to fight and fell into a deep…and dreamless…sleep.

* * *

Never before had she been so consumed by a project. Once she had started, it left no time for sleeping, for eating, for anything.

It was only a momentary idea, but of the sort that immediately took over, leaving no room for anything else but the fulfillment of that sole idea, that sole purpose, the final answer to everything she had planned.

Still, she had to do this. She had enough of it. She couldn't let this go on any longer.

It was impossible to be there with him every moment of the day. There were times that she would be busy, times she couldn't get back to the castle in order to renew the enchantment. And the moment she let it go, he ran away. He'd never stay with her any other way…well, then, so be it. Let there be no other way.

She hadn't intended to do this, to go this far. It was only his doing…he brought this down upon them both, she reasoned. If he only stayed in the castle and didn't try that escape, she wouldn't have to do this. But he left her no option.

He was still sleeping right now. She had put him into a deep sleep, though it was mostly just to allow the concussion to heal. She had partially healed it, but head wounds mostly had to be left on their own once the healing process began, or else she risked damaging important nerve centers in the brain.

The room in the castle she had used was on the lower levels, right above the dungeons. The only people she allowed in were several gnomes to help her, for she could not do this alone. It took too many hands.

For three days she did little else but work. In a strange way it had claim on her own body and soul, and she couldn't even bear to turn away once she had began. Every ounce of her strength went into this project, every bit of her magic, until the entire room glimmered with the shine of molten silver and smelled the sickly sweet, drowsy smell of enchantment. It was something she had been playing with successfully for years now, with the knowledge from her homeworld that silver was always the best to use with magical workings. It was a naturally conductive metal to magic and at home was most often used in flutes.

She had taken that over the years, trying to blend her powders with molten silver and trapping them inside. It worked, and was so much easier than using her powders and having to renew them constantly. She wore several silver necklaces and bracelets, each of which held a different powder and spell she could use. Granted in small things such as jewelry, it wasn't as effective as casting the spell the normal way. But in larger things, it would work.

Silver was the only thing that she could use and not have to worry anymore. And once she implemented the rest of her plan, she'd never have to worry again. The earthmen always followed her orders without question.

She would put Mullugutherum in charge of the project. He was the only one she would trust to enforce the new orders.

Three days with no sleep, and only a little food and water in order to keep her going when her power was completely drained. She put too much into this, so much that she was sure it would kill any other enchantress. There were times when she believed it would kill her…she stood with two hands in the molten silver, only a thin layer of her power protecting her hands from being destroyed by the hot metal. And all around her was an unnatural green haze, and by the end she felt that it had been burned into her skin forever, that she'd never be able to escape that cloying smell of enchantment. She had passed out several times from putting too much power at once into the silver, and had to wait with great frustration as her magic renewed itself. That was the worst of all, for then all she could do was sit there and watch while her gnomes handled _her _silver and _her _magic and thought nothing of it.

She was sleeping now, drained in body and soul from this all-consuming work, this last desperate attempt that she knew would last forever. She sat at the table and had her head in her arms, feeling more exhausted than ever before in her life. The only other time that she came close was during her alteration of her starform, but that had gone beyond exhaustion…then, while her body was getting used to the poison, she had been paralyzed for several days. This…now she wanted nothing more than to sleep for days on end until her tired body renewed the power that she had abused and drained time and again. The only bit she had left was that tenuous bit that still held all of Bism in her grasp. If she used any more power, that connection would be lost…then she would be dead, and Bism was free.

It was dangerous to take on a project like this. She could die at any time from overusing her power, but it didn't matter. It was all she could do.

And then it was _done._

She hadn't thought of it. All she had done was watched as the gnomes finished, and then she staggered to the table and was too tired even to make it to bed. She fell asleep there, and slept, and kept sleeping…

When she woke up, the room was empty and cold. The fire had long gone out, and after all this work, it was likely that this fireplace would never be used again.

Sara raised her head, her hair clinging to her face in odd places, her muscles sore and stiff from sleeping in an unnatural position, and her body protesting the movement as she rose from the chair, her movements slow and jerky as an old woman's. She rested one hand heavily on the table…she was awake but her power hadn't fully regenerated yet.

"Your majesty," Mullugutherum was at her side almost immediately, providing a shoulder for her to lean on when it was too hard to walk. "Your project?"

"Yes?" Sara said.

"They have finished it."

"Let me see it."

Mullugutherum hesitated. "It is upstairs," he said "In…in the prince's apartments, as you said."

"Then take me there."

"It is up many stairs, your majesty, are you sure…"

"Yes," her voice was hard and determined despite her weakness. She rested her hand on Mullugutherum's shoulder and let him lead her up the flights of stairs, not caring of how tired she was. She only wanted to see her project completed.

They went down a corridor, and he pushed the door open.

She let go of Mullugutherum's shoulder and stepped forward, laying one hand on her completed project. It was cold to the touch, the silver taking on the dark chill of the Underland.

"This is it?" Mullugutherum whispered. He felt he should whisper in a time like this, in this place.

All she could do was nod.

"Your majesty, the prince is awake. He is asking for you." Said a guard, opening the door and looking in briefly.

"Very well. Let him come."

She waited while he entered. She had put him into a very deep sleep, and right now he was still enchanted. She could tell by the glazed look in his eyes and the way he walked and came to her, looking at her as if she were the first and last thing on earth. She had not intended to enchant him, but it was the only way to get him to sleep and let the wound heal.

"Good afternoon," she said.

He bowed rather shakily. "Good afternoon, my lady. What are you doing here at such an odd hour? You are not usually here now."

"No," she shook her head slowly. "No. But I am glad you are here, for…for I have something very important to tell you."

"What is that?"

She had to have a way that he would come here every day or else it would be useless. She couldn't have the guards dragging him into this room every night. He had to come himself.

"I have found," she said, speaking clearly now. "Through all of my great power that you are under a most unfortunate affliction. You have worried so long about madness, haven't you?"

"Yes," he said, nodding unsurely. "In Narnia, I have…I remember…something of madness."

"I have found the problem, my dear. This unfortunate affliction…you have been put under a terrible enchantment, my dear. I have found this by my own magic, and I have taken great steps in order to free you from it."

"Then…there is no madness?"

"Of course not, my dear, there is only this horrible enchantment that has taken you over. But you must not fear. I have discovered a way of stopping it, but it will not be easy. The only possible way that you can be freed…is once we have found our way to the surface again, where the sun shines upon our faces and the snow can fall clearly and cold on the ground, and you…and there, you and I shall rule as king and queen of Overland. And only then, when they have named you king above all else, shall this enchantment be lifted. Do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"I have taken steps to do this already, for it pains me so to see you like this. I have already begun to dig towards the Overland. But it will take some time, and until then…there has been an equally unfortunate side effect of this enchantment that I had to work at great lengths to overcome."

"But you…you have?"

"Of course. You know I do not want you to suffer like this, my dear."

"You…you are truly too kind to me," he whispered.

"Yes." She agreed. "But every night…I had not known this until only recently…you become changed in such a manner…the likes of which I have never seen before. You turn away from friends and those willing to help you, from the people in the world who are dearest to you…and if they dare approach, you rush upon them and try to kill them. This is what you have done last night, and I can say it was terrible to witness. But again be thankful to me, for I have found a way to counter this…"

"Yes…"

"It is only for an hour…" she licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. "But you must come here, every night, when the hour chimes seven in the evening. And this chair, here…of silver, that stands before you…I have created it so that it may save you. My guards shall bind you to this chair, every night, but fear not…it is only so that you do not try and harm anyone in this hour of madness that comes upon you. There is the true madness you have seen, my dear. When it overtakes you, you know nothing of who you are, who I am…and it is only by spending that dark hour in this chair that you will not harm yourself or anyone else. It is for your safety…do you understand?"

"Yes…"

"Good. Now go. You are still tired and need more rest…I just must impress upon you the urgency of this, or else you will not come, and this enchantment and madness will never be lifted from you."

"Oh, thank you, my lady," He took her hand and bowed over it. "I am eternally grateful for this, for your everlasting wisdom, your grace, your kindness to me, your understanding…truly, no one else in the world would do something like this for me,"

"No," she replied with a faint smile. "No one would."

She waited until he left, and then ran her hand along the cold metal of the chair. This was it, this was the final step in her plan. He would never leave her now.

"Sness," she said quietly, the sibilant sound of the southern snake's name hanging in the air. "Give me strength to do this…" Strength! She didn't need strength. She needed…

"Give me the power to do this, to do what no other enchantress before me has done. Give me the power so that this chair may hold captive forever the mind and body of my Rilian, so that he may never again leave me…and so that one day we shall stand in the great castle of Cair Paravel and rule as king and queen, uncontested, forever."

The chair glimmered in the bright light of the room, the relief of Srinia in the far back reflecting the light off the silver.

She had put so much of her power into the chair so that the enchantment was permanently burned into the shining silver. Every night during that hour he would be in his right mind. The enchantment would fall away and he would be left as only Rilian, with a full knowledge of all that he was. She had to allow that…if she enchanted him every minute of the day, sooner or later the part of him that was truly Rilian would be burned away, leaving nothing but an empty shell, a puppet of a man who lived only for her and had no thoughts of his own. She did not want to lose every bit of who he was…she only wanted to capture it, make it part of her, forever entwine their destinies where the only way to separate them would be death. She wanted to make that part all of her, keep it for herself, as it was meant to be. He belonged to her, and this was the only way to ensure that he knew it.

At the end of that hour, the enchantment and magic she had put into that chair would renew itself, and once again ensnare his mind and body, leaving him once again enchanted and in her power. Now she would never have to worry about arriving too late and not being able to renew it herself…the chair would do that work for her. And now he would never escape.

Sara drew her hand away from the chair. There was nothing more to be done.

She turned and left the room, closing the door tight behind her.

* * *

Rilian awoke what he assumed was days later. He sat up in the bed, blinking vigorously and trying to shake the sleep from his head.

"Good morning,"

He saw Sara sitting there, holding a cup of tea. She held the tea out to him. "Willowbark," she said. "You had a concussion, but I'm glad to see it's almost healed. Drink this, it'll lessen the headache."

"Thank you," he said, taking the tea from her. It was dreadful, but willowbark tea always tasted horrid…well, at least it worked. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Quite awhile." She replied. "It was a concussion, and though I healed some of it, I had to let you sleep and your body heal the rest. Working too much healing on a person leaves their body's immune system compromised, always figuring that it will be healed by someone else instead of fighting for itself. But I am glad that you are awake now and alright. I was beginning to worry."

"I'll be fine."

She nodded in agreement. "Finish your tea."

He did so, downing the rest of the tea in one gulp, making a face at the bitter taste. "I'm sorry,"

"For what?"

"For leaving," he said, setting the cup down on the table. "I did mean to tell you, but I couldn't find you anywhere, and it seemed the only time I'd be able to do it. Those gnomes…they're utterly ridiculous and kept telling me all these inane things about you, though I didn't believe any of them."

"Good." was all she said.

He didn't say anything, only noticed how terribly hungry he was all of a sudden. Maybe he had been out longer than he thought.

"Here, come with me," she stood up and offered him her hand. "You must be hungry, after sleeping and healing for so long. I had a lunch prepared for us on the terrace."

"It's like you read my mind," he said, standing up.

She smiled. "I was a healer," she replied. "I know what it's like for people after a bad injury and a period of recovery."

"Ah. Yes, of course. That's what I told the gnomes, that you were a healer, but they didn't listen."

"They don't listen to most people, no."

She wasn't very talkative that day during lunch, not like she normally was. She stared past him, looking distant, and didn't even mention his attempted escape, as he thought she would. It seemed as if that didn't matter at all anymore. Maybe it didn't? He hoped at least he would give him the chance to explain further…he had tried, but was nearly unconscious with a concussion at the time and that didn't give him much of a chance to formulate any logical sentences.

When lunch was finished, she ordered him to follow her back through the castle, and this time a different way…it was down several of the corridors and one of the rooms that he knew was part of his apartments.

"Listen, Sara," he said as she was about to open the door. "Will you at least let me explain myself? I know you weren't expecting me to leave and that was all so sudden. But at least let me say why."

She nodded. "Yes, I will give you that. But come in here, it hardly does to speak out in an empty corridor, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Then come inside," she pushed open the door and walked inside. This was a room he had only been in a few times…there was a fireplace, a table, a cushioned chair that she immediately sat in, and a curious silver chair next to that. It was odd looking, and he didn't remember seeing it before. But he had overlooked a lot of things in this castle…maybe this was just another one of them.

"Now sit, and then you may speak."

He went to sit down next to her, but she gave a small shake of her head. "There," she indicated the chair.

He shrugged, figuring it was some odd whim of hers that he didn't understand. He sat down in the chair, for a moment thinking how uncomfortable it was and how it must certainly be an odd decoration…

And then cords, thin and whiplike, suddenly twisted around his wrists, his ankles, his knees, and his waist. They were tight and pulled him against the chair, not tight enough to cut off circulation but enough to make any escape impossible. For a moment he was too surprised, and jerked in the chair, but the ropes held him tight to it.

"Sara, what in Aslan's name is this?" he demanded as he struggled against the tight bonds, not understanding at all what the purpose for this was.

"Aslan?" she laughed softly. "You think your Aslan is here? No, my dear, he has left you and Narnia all years ago." She smiled, and he suddenly felt…fear. Was it possible to fear her? Sara was not a frightening person…

"He left you when he allowed your parents to turn you from me. He left you when he closed this world and made it impossible for me to ever leave. Do you think I would want to spend the rest of my life in this horrid Narnia, in this Underland that I have created? No, I wanted to go home, and leave you all at peace…but he denied me even that. This is your Aslan's fault, and he could have rectified this at any time but chose not to."

"Sara…"

"And now…" she shook her head, still smiling. "And so many times you have left me before, my dear, no matter what I did to have you stay. Oh, I have grown so tired of that." Her voice was soft now, and…and…familiar. "I've had enough of that as well."

She was wearing a green dress.

He had a sudden, horrible memory of sitting in a glade with a woman there, a beautiful woman in a green dress who spoke of things like this, of taking him away from Narnia, of showing him a beautiful world beyond Aslan's power. He had thought he was going mad, he had…

And then he _remembered._

All at once, he remembered…the enchantment, the time spent in the glade, her insistent voice weaving into his thoughts and mind and forcing him to return day after day, insisting that one day he would come with her to stay. She had made him turn from his family, from…he remembered also that last conversation with Sal when he had so rudely brushed her off…and he recognized the enchantment, and at that terrible moment thought…and realized…that maybe _she _was the cause of that strange madness that he was unable to place…

"Sara, what is going on?"

She tapped her fingers on the chair, and then looked at him. There was no mercy in her green eyes, none of that depth of compassion he remembered seeing during her time spent with Nirisath.

"Sara, come on, this is ridiculous. Let me go."

She only smiled, and there was no compassion in that smile, either.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," she said, shrugging. "I'm afraid it's out of my hands. I have given you a kingdom and anything you could possibly want, but you chose instead to leave, to try and escape instead of staying here with what I gave you. You left me no choice, really…this was all I could do. I didn't want it to come to this. But what else would I do?"

"Let me go back home, that's what," he replied. "I don't understand what you're doing here, but it's preposterous, all of this. Just let me go."

She shook her head. "I can't do that. I already told you, and I do quite dislike repeating myself. I'm afraid your land…your dear, beloved land of Narnia…will have to learn how to live without their prince." She chuckled. "And I'm sure your father will come to terms with it eventually. At first, naturally, he'll be devastated…imagine that, the look on his face when his only son does not return to the castle, and nothing of him is ever found! But I'm sure he'll be over it in due time, perhaps find a new person to become prince in your place…ah, but it doesn't matter." She waved her hand dismissively. "Even if he finds another, once I have completed my work it will not matter how many kings and princes exist in Narnia. They will all be dead anyway."

"Sara, what are you saying? Talk sense, for Aslan's sake."

"All the gnomes, you think they are lying to you? No, they only lie when I tell them to. They were telling you the truth, my dear, and you…ever so smart, so daring…were right to try and escape. But it's too late, you'll never be given that opportunity again." Her fingers stopped their insistent tapping and she leaned forward. "Yes. I have my gnomes set all day digging towards the surface, and one day they shall break through and…isn't this brilliant? We will advance across the plains and take over your Narnia. I know…I'm impressed at this plan myself. Imagine that! None of them…" she waved her hand over her head. "Have any idea that any of this exists! And then one day they shall wake up, and I will march my army forward, and kill all those who stand against us. Eventually we shall claim the throne for ourselves, and the king…he will be the last to die. I will kill him myself. And when all that is finished, then Narnia will be mine…no, no, it will be ours. And if you are there with me, what would they say? Nothing…which makes this all the more brilliant. They won't be able to fight my army if you are with me, and with you standing next to me when they name me queen…" she laughed. "They won't be able to do anything about it. We will rule unopposed, and even if there are enemies, it won't matter…they will be killed anyway. It's a perfect plan, isn't it? It took me a great amount of time to come up with it, and I am ever so proud of it."

Rilian for a moment didn't even know what to say. It was so unlike her, and sounded so completely absurd…and she looked thoroughly proud of it. He knew when she was lying, and knew…now…she wasn't lying. Not when she sat there looking almost elated, triumphant at her perfected plan.

"Lion's mane, Sara, you can't be serious."

"Oh, I am," now she turned back to him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones unfailingly. "I am quite serious, I assure you."

It was entirely wrong…

But he couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. The bonds held him too tight, and the more he struggled, the more they cut painfully into his wrists and ankles. He looked to see if there were any knots he could possibly undo, but there was nothing as far as he could see…only a smooth, seamless rope, tightly binding him to this strange chair. This was not happening. This had to be a dream, a terrible nightmare that sooner or later would clear…more madness, perhaps, a madness that would eventually fade or be replaced with a different sort of vision…

"Why would you do this?"

"You ask me why? Ask them why," she indicated again the land far above their heads. "Ask them. I'm sure they'll tell you, if they remember at all, which by now they don't. Ask them what my name is…they'll be unable to say. Nirisath's apprentice, that's what I always was. That girl from the other world. That witch…who…wants to enchant our prince and take over our land, yes, that's what they always said. You know, it is a terribly good idea, and if that's what they want, then why not?" she let her hand fall back down onto the arm rest. "And I assure you, it is so much easier this way. There are no boundaries, no worries, no constant fear that you've crossed some invisible line that will make people think otherwise of you. No, Rilian, I have no lines anymore, and the only rules that exist are the ones I make. And you…" she rested her chin in her hands. "I did love you, though no one ever believed me. And I still do, though even you may not think so...Yarrin be blessed, I love you more than anyone else in the world, perhaps in all the worlds..." Her voice faded off for a moment, but quickly recovered.

"So in truth it is perhaps their fault, perhaps yours, maybe even mine…maybe it is all our fault. Either way, it is unimportant. Either way, I am quite tired of this."

This was all too much. It was too absurd, too much for his mind to grasp. It made no sense. This wasn't Sara, these couldn't possibly be her intentions. Yet she never denied anything, she only spoke…and she was never one to lie about anything, so if she said something like this…surely it had to be true.

"My family…" he finally managed to say. "My father. Lord Drinian. Lady Sal, Mien, Toire, and…"

She chuckled. "Worried about friends? Family? People you can't get back?" she said, looking at him, her gaze piercing. "People who don't know where you are and will never know? Oh, to them you disappeared one day for reasons unknown and no clues to your disappearance will ever be found in Narnia. After of course a period of time in which you were acting very strangely…" she smiled. "A mystery they'll never be able to solve. And it's horrible, isn't it? Always wondering what happened to them, always thinking about if they still think about you. Oh, at first you never notice it. It is only a small bother. But as the time passes, and you never see them…and they never see you…and you spend every day wondering, wondering if they remember, wondering if they will vanish entirely the moment you forget their faces. Eventually it consumes you until all you think about is everything you lost. The wondering is the worst, my dear. Dreaming that during the dying hours of those you most loved, perhaps they will ask for you. It keeps you awake nights, nights in a row, for fear that as soon as you sleep you'll see all their faces and wake up then to find them vanished again with the sunrise. But…but it doesn't last forever, eventually…eventually you have to forget…" she glanced away. "It is unfortunate, isn't it? Soon they will vanish when the sun comes. But fear not, here, there is no sun. Here they are only the dreams we create for ourselves, yes?"

She stood and walked over to him, resting one arm on his shoulder. At that moment, the clock chimed…once…twice…and finally settled on eight times, the eighth chime ringing throughout the castle and then fading away.

"Eight," she said. "I'm afraid that's it," she sounded almost sad.

Maybe then…well, maybe at least she'd let him go now, because this was ridiculous. But she didn't make any moves to do this…only looked at her pocket watch before tossing it back over onto her chair. It bounced and then lay there, and he found himself staring at it, staring, because there was…really nothing else interesting happening except…the pocket watch…

He blinked several times. It was too hard to focus now on anything else but the watch, but Sara, but this room…he had still more questions he wanted to ask of her. He had a lot to say, but it was too hard, for some reason, to form logical thoughts anymore. The ideas and questions slipped from his mind, one by one, until he forgot what he was going to ask, forgot the demands, forgot why he was in this chair…it all faded away in a sudden thick, cloying fog that ensnared his mind and covered his senses.

All he could hear then was her voice, her lovely voice weaving in through the cloudiness of his mind to settle in a far corner of his consciousness that he felt he could never drive off. "Narnia wanted their witch, and I will be their witch. But here, here they call me queen. And you, Rilian…you will be my king."

He turned his face upward to look at her. She ran a finger down his cheek and took his chin in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes. And this wasn't a problem, because she was all that existed, all that filled his thoughts and mind.

"And now…" she whispered into his ear, her voice being the only real thing in this dim, foggy world.

"Now you'll never leave me."


	26. Chapter 26

((Thanks guys! That last part was one of the scenes in this story I really enjoyed writing...it first showed up in 12th grade gym class and I was surprised it made it to the final, haha. Well, enjoy the next chapter!))

It started off as the smallest awareness, a creeping sensation of knowledge, like the feeling of blood returning to a limb, only without the tingling sensation and pins and needles. Then feeling soon followed, the feel of the air in the room, the cold smell it held, the fact that he kept expecting it to be musty but it never was. It always smelled clear with the slight hint of rosemary. Maybe she kept it that way so he would notice it. Then there was the warmth of the fire and how it was far enough away to be warm but not too close where it would burn. There were the other sensations, the feeling of the bonds at his wrists…ankles…everywhere…and the cold of the chair against his exposed skin. It never warmed, not even when the rest of the room was hot and the fire burned brightly in the fireplace.

It was only sensations at first, all of those, gradually infiltrating his mind and then…then awareness, then knowledge. Then he would open his eyes and see the room, the cursed room that never changed from day to day. The carpet was always the same, a thick dark green, and he was sure it was probably soft. She wouldn't have anything less than nice in her castle. And there was the fireplace, and another chair next to it that she sat in. At least, he assumed she sat in it other times, because she never was here during this time. She always had something else to do, some way to make herself absent. He waited for her that first day…thinking she would come. Figuring she would. She never did. The door remained shut, and not even a gnome or a guard would enter.

The knowledge was the worst. That came all at once, not like the awareness and the sensations. It started off with perhaps a memory, and that triggered everything else. Today he stared at the carpet, the thick green of the carpet, and remembered once a tree he saw far to the south when his father decided to take them to the Calormene border. The king had to meet with someone, and Rilian went along with him just so he could see Calormen. There had been a tree that was green like that, and it had huge leaves, palm leaves, if that's what it was. That's what he heard they were called…palm leaves, palm trees, something like that.

And then everything else returned. Memories, knowledge, all of that, in a sudden overwhelming rush that made him open his eyes and gasp against the onslaught, and still not be able to do anything about it. He couldn't move. He could only clench his fists tight, but that did nothing either, and neither did closing his eyes or moving his head or calling out and asking for someone.

No one ever came when he did that. The first two days he spent trying, but there was no one. Maybe Sara was busy, not that it mattered. Maybe the guards were elsewhere.

He wouldn't waste time with that today. The moment he remembered, he forced himself to remain calm. He closed his eyes and put his head back, ignoring the feel of the cold metal against his neck. He took several deep breaths, taking in the smell of the fire and the rosemary. There were two normal things, two sane things in this world that had suddenly gone mad. He could handle this. He was prince of Narnia, and if he couldn't keep his head in a crisis, some king _he _was going to make.

Rilian opened his eyes again. There was still no one there, and everything in the room was the same. Oh well…he could…he could figure something out. Hadn't his mother taught him to be resourceful?

If only she was here. If only she hadn't died. There, there was another reason he had to get out of here. He still had to find the snake and kill it to avenge her death. He couldn't do that if he stayed trapped in the kingdom of a madwoman.

He didn't know what happened, but somewhere along the line something…or multiple things, perhaps…had changed the woman he once knew as Sara. There was hardly anything left of his old friend as far as he could see…judging from the way she spoke the last time she was here with him. She was a complete lunatic bent on world domination, bent on keeping him here against his will, away from his home and his family. She was…she called herself a witch. She was a witch. A green witch, an emerald witch. That sounded about right. Emerald Witch.

He had to think of her as such. It was the only thing he could do right now, imagine her the way he saw her last and think of the terrible witch she now was. It was the only thing that could keep his mind in order when every instinct was still insisting how preposterous it was to see his old friend like this. He could convince himself that he was being kept prisoner of a witch. He could not grasp the concept of his old friend Sara locking him in this dungeon away from the world for who knows how long.

No. There had to be something here he could use to escape.

The first escape attempt hadn't gone so well. He was probably too arrogant, and hadn't thought it out well enough. This would be different…a lot more depended on this. He only had one hour, though, and that made it all the more difficult. What could he do in one hour before he lost his mind again and fell prey to Sara…no, to the Witch's…enchantments?

Maybe he could begin something one day, hide it, and then finish it the next?

But how would that work, when he couldn't even stand?

Rilian's gaze fell on the sword on the table on the other side of the room. He must have, or someone made him, put it there before the clock chimed seven. If only he could get over to it…but what good would that do? He couldn't move his arms to lift the sword, not tied up like this. It didn't matter even if he took it. But maybe…he could move his wrists still, and his hands. Maybe if he got close enough, he could use the sword to at least slice through one of the ropes at his wrist, and then it would free his hand enough to escape. There. That would work, that was a plan, albeit an absurd one. But everything here was absurd, and therefore the plans had to match. Mad plans in a mad world.

But that plan soon failed when he tried to move the chair and it wouldn't move. He tried to stand up, to maybe balance it on his back…he saw someone do that in a play once…but that didn't work. It was too heavy. Maybe she designed it that way. Maybe it was the silver. He had seen flutes made of silver, and they were all light…but she wasn't making a flute. She was making this with the intention of him never leaving.

He tried to move closer to the sword, but the chair wouldn't move. Nothing moved, and all that happened was the ropes pressed painfully into his wrist as he tried to move.

So the sword option wasn't going to work. He wouldn't even be able to have his sword with him during this hour…when he was enchanted, he remembered setting it on the table, or having one of the gnomes do it. "So you don't harm yourself," the gnomes would say. "Her majesty's orders, and yours as well." They said this very gravely, and at the time he of course agreed with them. He agreed with anything they said, whatever she said…it was disgusting, but he couldn't do anything about it. Still, it made him sick…he was a prince of Narnia, and the idea of him saying anything not of his own volition, and the memories of his absolute servitude were almost too much to bear.

But it wasn't his fault. Why would it be? All he wanted was to leave, to go home. He was sure if she came back, he would tell her…promise…that he would return if only she let him go home. He would give his absolute honor as prince of Narnia. But she never showed up…he was always alone.

So there had to be a different thing he could do. The sword wouldn't work. How tight were the bonds? He made another small movement, but that was all he could do. It was hopelessly restricted, and the bonds didn't even look like they had a weak spot where they were tied. They were smooth, all the way through, and allowed only enough movement to keep from cutting off circulation. But they were too tight to do anything else.

What about the fire?

What about the cursed fire? What could the fire do? All it did was burn, and he couldn't even move close enough in the vain hope that he could burn the bonds off. It would no doubt burn off the skin on his hand, but it would be worth the pain if he could get out of this. There were healers back home, many of them, and they all knew what they were doing. Maybe even this time he would find out where Nirisath went and look for her. The last he heard she had gone somewhere south…

But that did him no good now. Thinking of home offered no help of how to get back there. And the fire only burned, and the sword was far away…and nothing could have helped prepare him for this. He learned diplomacy, relations between people…he could settle arguments and fight with a sword and do a dozen other things that were expected of princes. But not this, this was altogether too preposterous to have anything to do with anything he learned.

But there had to be something…something she missed, something he had missed before and could see now. It was impossible that this whole thing was hopeless. It was impossible that there would be no escape, that he was trapped forever in this dungeon with only an hour to think thoughts of his own. It was impossible. He'd find something. There would be something…sooner or later it would make itself clear to him.

There was no other option. There _had _to be something.

The clock chimed eight, again, steadily, as it did every night. Rilian's head fell back against the chair, and he momentarily entertained the thought that the moment he escaped, the first thing he would do was destroy that accursed clock and stop that chiming…but the chimes soon ceased, leaving no room for thoughts.

* * *

Perhaps this time there was the hope of calling for someone. There were gnomes. He remembered seeing them every day, and they waited, didn't they? They waited outside the room until the hour was over and they could go back about their business. He could get one of their attentions. Brin. He remembered that gnome. But he was probably dead, because Brin had said all sorts of things to him, and Brin was…Brin was different from the rest of the gnomes. Rilian wasn't sure how, only that he had been. He told Rilian things that none of the others did.

Brin had to be dead by now. After he spoke that way…however long ago that was…the witch wouldn't be happy about that. It was hopeless to look for Brin to help him.

But maybe there were others. There were plenty of gnomes here…they all couldn't be loyal to Sara, could they? There was no such thing as a kingdom where every single subject was loyal with no hint of discontent. Even in Narnia there was discontent, hence why there were meetings and councils. He didn't hear of any of that here in Underland. Maybe there were, and he just didn't remember, after all, he had been here so long…

No. No, it had only been…eight days. Eight? No, nine, today was nine. It had been nine days. He counted, every day, and made an effort as soon as the enchantment wore off to say at least five times how many days it had been since this started. It was so hard to tell with the way time passed down here. There were no clocks in this room, which made it all the worse…it was near impossible to tell how much time he had left until the clock chimed, and by that point it was too late. He didn't know what time it was now except that it was during the evening, or perhaps the night. It couldn't be determined…there was no sun here, no moon, no stars, no way to tell.

Only memory. Nine. It had been nine days.

And there had to be someone here.

There were guards. He could get the attention of some guard, who would come, and maybe he could persuade the guard to release him like he had persuaded Brin to talk to him.

"Guard!" he called. "Guard, I demand you come here at once!" his voice was strong and authoritative.

There was the faintest sound of movement, a scraping on the other side of the door. Rilian's head came up and his fingers curled around the end of the armrest. Someone was there!

"Yes. Yes, I know you can hear me. Open this door and come in here, on my orders."

There was another sound, closer. Were they opening the door? Rilian leaned forward as best he could, straining to hear further, his heart racing in the hope that there would be something. Then there was a faint voice…

"…orders,"

"I don't know."

"Might…ask…tomorrow."

"There's…but I thought…"

He could only catch some of the words, but they existed! He felt a strange momentary relief just at hearing the voices, strange and distant as they sounded to his mind, just knowing other people existed. It had only been nine days, but even nine days here made him wonder…if maybe he made up all the gnomes in the first place, and that all except for Sara were figments of his tired, confused mind and didn't actually exist.

But those were voices!

"Well? Are you coming, or will I have to tell the Queen about your disobedience?" he said.

There was a moment of silence, then the voices lowered…now he could barely make out what they were saying. They were talking low but vigorously, their voices a dull murmur from behind the door. He had to strain to listen, and even then it was too…too low…

The door opened a crack, and a voice floated into the room, although he couldn't see the gnome who was speaking. "Forgive me, your majesty," the gnome said, and Rilian felt almost giddy with relief at hearing that real voice speaking. "But the Queen's orders were that you remain here alone, and if we enter, it could hinder your recovery."

"Recovery? What nonsense is that?"

"From your enchantment." The gnome replied.

"What enchantment? What has she told you? Whatever it is, it's complete rubbish…I'm not enchanted right now, I don't need to recover from anything, I just need you to come here…"

"She told us you would say that," the gnome whispered. "And that we shouldn't listen, for it is only part of your sickness…it makes you forget that anything is wrong during this time and if we come in and release you, you'll try and kill us."

"Yes," agreed the second gnome, who had a much lower voice than the first. Rilian was under the impression that it must be a larger gnome, maybe one of those who had the trunks that brushed the floor. "That's what she said. You said that, too, and since you both did, we must obey."

"We don't want anything to go wrong." The first said in what Rilian figured was trying to be a reassuring tone. "So we won't bother you and risk it all going wrong, your majesty."

"Nothing's wrong," Rilian struggled to keep his voice calm. "Nothing at all, here, I can explain it all to you if you come here and help me. I'm sure I can help you with whatever you need help with."

"Can't do that," said the second one. "Can't. Sorry. Your orders. Her orders."

"But mightn't we…" for a moment the first sounded almost as if he was talking Rilian's plea seriously. "I mean, we are supposed to obey his orders…"

"But not during this time."

"Right."

"Sorry." The second's voice was low and gruffer now. "We'll be back later." And then the door closed again, the latch clicking firmly and the voices being silenced again.

They believed her. They believed what the witch said, and what she made him say, and he couldn't convince them otherwise. They believed her lies, and his lies, and turned away from anything else that existed. Their blind loyalty to the witch was…unflagging…even in times like these…

Would they ever believe him?

He strained to listen, but the voices had gone, as if they had never existed in the first place. He was alone again, nothing but the crackling of the fire and pop of a log to break the silence. The gnomes were gone. No one else was here, nothing but the scent of rosemary and burning logs and some other sweetness that had something to do with the enchantment that shimmered through this entire room even during this hour.

The gnomes wouldn't believe what he said during this hour. They held faith to the witch's words. It was like her words were the only words anyone believed.

"They're not," Rilian said out loud, closing his eyes. "They're not the only words. They're only one opinion in thousands, and in Narnia no one would ever listen. They would listen to me. They wouldn't believe a witch over what I said. But this isn't home, things are different here."

A log popped again, sending sparks into the air.

"But this isn't home," Rilian said again. "This…isn't…home."

He was met with only silence.

* * *

One month, seven days. But still, it wasn't like he was not a resourceful person. There were just limited resources to work with, and at one month and seven days (eight days? No, it was definitely seven) even the little resources were starting to look like nothing. He had tried to remember one day to leave the sword closer, but that didn't work. He couldn't think a thing for himself during the rest of the day, no matter how strong an effort he made. It wouldn't work. He spent the best part of the month trying to make it work, but it all failed. Everything was always the same when he awoke, even the smell of rosemary and the fire burning. What did that leave? He couldn't do anything beforehand. It was all reduced to this, what he could do _now. _Time was of the essence. It was the most important factor here…do what he could with what was given.

There was nothing given…

No, there had to be. He took so much time trying to set things up beforehand, and failing, that he most likely overlooked something during this time in an effort to try and think of what he could do any other time. That was why he was still here, after a month and seven days. Yes…yes, that was absolutely it, no doubt, no question. He spent all this time analyzing what happened and what went wrong when he wasn't in control of his actions. That did nothing, only led to frustration and failure. Well, he'd have to stop that. He'd have to take more time now figuring out how he could affect things here, and now, before he was lost to the spells once again. Had to figure it out. There were things, things, he had been overlooking…

Two months, fifteen days. Nothing in this room, absolutely nothing. The fire was too far away, the sword was far away, the guards outside the doors…if there even were guards outside the doors, waiting…he thought they were waiting, but he wasn't so sure. He remembered guards there on the eleventh day. No! No, the ninth day! They were there, and they spoke to him, and he remembered their voices. Did they come in the room? He couldn't remember. But they spoke, they said they couldn't do anything. So it was useless trying to influence the guards here, if there even were guards here. He didn't hear anything now, there weren't voices anymore. Just the fire. Even his own voice didn't sound real, sounded strange and unfamiliar in the dead silence. They'd think he was mad if they knew back at home, if they heard him talking like this, talking to himself…the healers would shake their heads, say there was nothing they could do, then walk away and leave the poor insane prince for his father to deal with. But there was no sense thinking of this, it didn't help, it didn't help looking around the room and finding nothing at two months and fifteen days…

Three months, twenty-one days, there was nothing in this room, nothing, nothing, only a room and only a fireplace and only a bed and this cursed chair, it was too hard, couldn't be broken. There were guards. There had to be guards, there was always the chance that he might break free from this! The guards had to be there! Outside the door. There were three of them. No, two! There wouldn't be a need for three guards. There had to be two, and sooner or later they would come in here and he could talk to them again and convince them to let him go. There had to be guards, after all, the witch accounted for everything and she had guards everywhere, and he remembered guards at each of the entrances in the rest of the castle, and how they were always there, so they had to be here, too. Logically. And logically they'd come here sooner or later. Maybe there'd be a new guard. That would work. He could speak with a new guard and convince them to let him go. The new guards at home were always easier to convince to do things. He did that, once, when he was eleven…at least, he remembered doing it, convincing this one guard to let him stay out all night…in the garden…at Cair Paravel. There was a garden there. A large garden, and in one of the gardens there were lime trees, because no one expected there to be lime trees there. But the guard! There'd be a new guard posted. She couldn't keep the old ones there forever. And…and there…there would be…

Five months, twelve days. Maybe the guards were all gone. Maybe there just weren't any guards, and there hadn't been any at first, he had just imagined the ones that spoke to him. Maybe that was just a memory of home. Home, however far away that was. But he was going to find his way back. There wasn't a question of that. And maybe…maybe they would find him! Yes, that was a possibility! His father would have sent out search parties right away. All of Narnia would be involved! They would sweep the country, and go into Archenland, and maybe even into Calormen. Either way, everyone would know about it and everyone would be involved. It was a vast land area, but there would be enough people involved where they would come. Sooner or later, they would come. Would they find their way down here? Yes, yes they would. It was difficult…he vaguely remembered coming here for the first time, even though he was still under her power at that time…but there were many entrances from the ruins of Harfang that led to this place. All tunnels, she said, led to Underland. It would be hard for them, but one of them would fall through a tunnel and find their way down here. It was possible. It was completely, entirely possible…

Six months, thirteen days, and it was taking them an awful long time. It was hard to find. They could have gotten lost. Maybe they hadn't thought to come to Harfang. But they would, eventually, because it was part of the search. Maybe they were lost in the tunnels. All tunnels led to Underland but maybe not all were easy to navigate. They could have been lost or died in the tunnels. Or there was that cavern she had mentioned once that put people to sleep when they wandered into it. But Narnians were smart. They'd find a way where no one else could. His father would send enough people where one of them was bound to find their way here. It was just taking awhile. A long while. But it wouldn't take forever. They'd find him, and he would go home. He would find a way home. They'd come, they'd come…

Eight months, thirty days, no one was here, no one has been here for eight months and thirteen…thirty! Thirty days! Or thirteen. Thirty. Thirteen. They sounded similar enough where it could have been thirty or it could have been thirteen but it was still eight months, right? Still eight? Yes? No? No one was here to answer it, to confirm that, there was still no one here even after all this time. No gnomes. No guards, no Narnians, no rescuers that he too often imagined ordering the gnomes with a bold voice to stand aside, coming in this room, my prince, I have found you, we have been searching for months now for you, but I'm here now, quick, we have to go.

There's a witch here, you have to be careful.

That's fine. We'll be able to get past the witch. I didn't see anyone on the way in.

She can do things that I never thought she could do. I don't even know everything. We have to be careful.

We'll be careful.

Are you sure?

Yes. We have to get back home.

Home. He'd get home. With or without that rescuer, who wasn't…wasn't here. There was still no one here. Not even the witch. She seemed so adamant about this, why wouldn't she be here at least once? Maybe she didn't care. Maybe that was a lie too. Maybe she wanted all along to take over Narnia and even back then he hadn't seen it, what if they were right, what if his people were right…but none of them were here to confirm it, to remind him of anything. They couldn't say whether or not he had made the whole thing up, years ago, even though he insisted…believed…he was never very good at making things up…

Eight months thirteen days. Thirty. It was…had to be thirty…but there was no one here to say anything else.

* * *

"No, I really must get to western precinct today," Sara said, waving the pencil in the general direction of the precinct. "I have to check on Thanagel. It's his first day alone there, and he is with Maram and Fol, and I don't know how well they're going to get along."

"Is there any reason why they wouldn't?" Rilian asked, standing next to her on the balcony.

"Not Maram and Fol, they've always been fine. They are easy to control. Just three drops of solution each day and it keeps them placid, despite the madness. Thanagel, nothing ever works. Nothing I've created can keep him calm for longer than a half hour. He loses it after that."

"That's why you've always kept him in the dungeon."

"Precisely. I only decided to put him in western precinct because it's easier…you know, keep them all in the same area. What if I must entertain someone in this castle? It wouldn't do to hear Thanagel and all his ravings during dinner, would it?"

"No, I suppose not."

She tapped the pencil on the balcony. There were never any dinner guests, but that was besides the point. Thanagel was getting on her nerves each day now, and she couldn't keep him in this castle anymore. He had broken out of the cell three times and went wandering through the castle, banging on doors, knocking things over, pulling tapestries off the wall and throwing food out the window at passersby and screaming about how the sun was here, the sun was there, the stars would shine and he couldn't see anything real anymore for fear of the sun. She had to put him somewhere else, and there was a small place in western precinct where she kept the troubled gnomes, the ones who fell into madness over the years. The others could be controlled…she had developed a potion that would calm them down. It never worked on Thanagel, no matter how many times she tried. Maybe seeing the surface was too much for even her potion to change.

"Danger to them, too."

"What?" she turned around to look at him.

"Danger to the people who wander down there, isn't it? I mean, I think so, I'd figure…"

"No, you're right."

"I am?"

"Yes! Yes, of course you are. I'm not the only one who is allowed to be right here, my dear."

"You just are more often than I."

She chuckled. "I've had more experience here, that's all. Soon you'll have that experience as well, and soon…soon we'll have no more need for this Underland. It will be so much easier once Narnia is ours."

"I believe you." He put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. She leaned back and smiled, still feeling how comfortable it was to be like this with him. "But I hope there won't be any problems with Thanagel."

"I'll have it under control, don't worry. I've handled Thanagel for enough time now where I know how to keep him quiet. And it's only one small part of western precinct where it really won't affect the others that much, and…"

She was interrupted by a loud, ringing bell that echoed through the castle. Neither of them moved, but she could feel a sudden change in his posture, a tension that wasn't there before. Five minutes to seven, curse it. She had lost track of time again. And there…she turned her head to see the two guards waiting, spears at attention, to guide Rilian to his apartments for this hour. Damn it. She should have checked her watch before coming up here.

"Your majesty?" a guard said.

"Yes, I know," she replied impatiently. "I'm sorry," she said to Rilian, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "You know that sooner or later there won't be a need for this anymore."

"I know. I trust you, and you'll someday find a way to end this sooner, right?"

"My workers are digging every day. It won't take long before we reach the surface." She neglected to tell him that another part of the tunnel collapsed due to a fault line that ran through the rock and left weaknesses that caused a small quake and collapse. She had to work around the fault, and she didn't know enough about rock in order to figure out how to do this. She took that particular group of gnomes and relinquished the enchantment slightly…just enough to allow them access to all their knowledge about rock…and then set them to work. But it was even harder to control them and took constant vigilance, and it was taxing. She spent most of the day sleeping now to try and make up for it.

They followed the guards down into the prince's apartments and finally into his room. The two gnomes entered first, holding the door open for them. One gnome stood by the chair, the other by the table, indicating for Rilian to take his sword off. He did so, laying it on the table and waiting for Sara's nod of approval. For a moment his hand rested on the sword, longer than usual, and a vaguely troubled expression crossed his face.

"Are you sure I won't…shouldn't…keep this with me?"

"Why would you think that?" she answered, a little sharper than usual. "You don't need it. It would only cause more harm if you kept it with you!" No. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He wouldn't normally ask a question like that, but it was only minutes away from seven. She had to give him the benefit of a doubt for that. "And you know I am ever concerned for your safety," she finished, her voice softer and more calm.

"Yes, you are," he nodded.

"There. Now, I have to go to western precinct, but I will be back later." She gave a small bow. "It won't take long, this business. I only have to get Thanagel settled. I will see you shortly."

"Of course." One of the gnomes took Rilian's wrist. "Wait."

"What?" the gnome asked.

"No, no…my lady, can you…wait?"

Sara had her hand on the doorknob, but hesitated. "What is it? I have to leave now. You know I am very busy and have a lot to do."

"I know, but…but you always leave," He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps it would be easier, this time, if you stayed with me. There are times when I am…afraid to be alone. You say I don't remember who I am, and don't even remember what happens during this time. I don't…I can't recall anything. But maybe if you stayed, I'd be able to remember…"

"No," she said, all too forcefully that even he looked surprised. "No, I've told you before, I can't stay with you. I'm far too busy. There are too many things I have to attend to. I hate repeating myself."

"But, it is only an hour…"

"In which I have a lot to do on my own. You know I can't stay. I've told you this before." She removed his hand from her shoulder. "You know this. Now, I will return in an hour."

"But, my lady…"

"No more protests," she said, and he automatically fell silent. "Don't ask me this anymore. I've told you once, and you know better than to question me when I have already told you something!" she snapped, pulling the pocketwatch out of her belt and staring at it. There were only two minutes left. She had to leave within the course of those minutes and find a place to go, something to keep her busy…today she would check the western precinct and how Thanagel was managing. It took some time to get to the western district, but she could make it if she left now.

"My lady, it was only a question. I didn't mean anything offensive to you,"

"Either way, do not mention it again." She closed the pocketwatch with a sharp snap. "And those are my orders,"

"Orders…orders, my lady, you never give orders to me. I have done something wrong, I have made you unhappy, please tell me what I did so that I may make amends…"

"Nothing! Nothing, now please, it is almost seven, I must go. But you must never, ever ask me that again. Is that understood?"

There was a pause, and then a sigh. "Yes, my queen. Understood."

"Good." She strode out the door, taking the time only to nod at the guards. "I will be back later. If I am not back by eight, as usual, you have your orders, continue as planned."

The bell chimed seven, and she continued down the hall and the stairs. She had ordered a chariot earlier to come and bring her to western precinct, and they would be there by now.

Don't ask me this ever again, she thought furiously, not quite knowing why the question had made her so angry. She shouldn't have been. It was nearly seven, he wasn't in his right mind. He probably said things during those few minutes before the hour chimed that he wouldn't say any other time. That was the reason for it, she reasoned. He should know better than to ask. She never stayed with him during that time, and she told him this enough times when he should know! Damn him for asking. No…damn him for asking like that. She had to ensure he never did it again.

If he did…

She made an effort to stay away. If he asked again, there was always the chance…the chance that she would stay, and she could never do that.

There was no need for her to do that. He didn't need her during that time…anything but, she reasoned. He wouldn't want to see her. He would probably do things during that…that time of madness…that he wouldn't do any other time. Words that normally he would never even dream of saying. She didn't know, and she didn't care to know.

"Where is my chariot?" she demanded as the two guards opened the door, and the courtyard was revealed to be blank. "I ordered this only a few hours ago."

"They won't bring the chariot here today, your majesty. They're superstitious."

"Of what?"

"It's been seven months since you first…brought the prince there," the gnome said, pointing to the upper reaches of the castle. "They're superstitious of coming so close. They say that they hear strange things there during this time, and…you know. Bad things come in sevens."

"I don't have time for your superstitions! What idiocy is this that you still follow them? From now on, you will not hold to any of these foolish superstitions you always have. That is an order," she finished, touching the stones around her neck with two fingers.

"Yes, your majesty," the guard said, and at the same time she heard the whisperings of all the voices over Underland repeating the same thing.

"Now, bring the chariot around and take me to western precinct. Bad things come in sevens, what sort of nonsense is that. Even in Mayharran we didn't have superstitions like that." She finished as she waited for them. They did, and she stepped on it and ordered them to go.

It took her several moments after they left the courtyard for her to realize that she couldn't remember what sort of superstitions they did have in Mayharran.

* * *

Eight months and fifteen days, Sara thought angrily, throwing the plans aside. It had been eight months and fifteen days since she had completed her project and had Rilian by her side. But the rest of the plans…each time, they were failing! This was her fourth attempt to tunnel to the surface, and now this one had collapsed as well. Was it _that _difficult of a thing to do? Surely there weren't this many ways that a tunnel could be made! But clearly there were this many, and probably more, that a tunnel could collapse.

Pockets of magma settled over the centuries that when touched would explode. Unstable layers of sediment. Rocks higher up that couldn't be navigated. How many more things would she have to throw aside before she could finally have a stable tunnel? The whole thing had seemed so easy when she thought it up, but now it was becoming increasingly frustrating. She was momentarily tempted to take them the way she came down for the first time, but that would involve traveling through the cavern of the sleepers and she intended never to return _there._

Damn this. Another plan into the fire.

She pulled out a new piece of parchment and two pencils…but then realized that she had left the maps elsewhere. She had made numerous copies of each of her plans, as well as the maps of the Underland and all the failed attempts. Now she needed those plans so she could see what to avoid in developing her next plan, but the old plans weren't here.

She stood up, pushing aside a pile of scrolls that she brought here from Harfang…nothing beneath them. Nothing on the shelves. She gave a frustrated sigh, pulling on a curl of hair in annoyance. Had she given them to someone? Or left them in another precinct she had visited? No…somewhere else in the castle. They had to be somewhere else. Wait…here was one. She took one off the shelf and glanced at it…this was the third plan, that one was discontinued because of the magma pocket. The rest…she had to have left them in some other part of the castle. Well, she'd have to go find them now before she could start on the rest.

She took the blank scroll and the failed plan and left the room, walking down the halls at the same time as reading the plan. Thankfully this was the latest, and several of the earlier failures were factored in. There was the fault from the first time…there was the magma pocket, of course…what was this? Oh, right, this was a layer of rock too solid to dig through. There was a plan to dig around it, had they found that yet? No, they were still working on that. Maybe she could figure that out now.

There was a faint noise in the corridor. "Hmm?" she said, still not looking up from the sheet. "What is it?"

No response. She shrugged and kept walking. If they turned right around the stone, would that work? From the corner of her vision she saw a door, and it looked somewhat familiar…maybe she had kept the plans there. That was entirely a possibility. Still reading, she laid one hand on the doorknob.

"Eight months! Eight months and fifteen days, I know that, it's fifteen. Fifteen. Fifteen. How much longer? How many more months, more days? Another eight? More than that? Maybe years. Maybe it'll be years, years before anyone…anyone finds me here…damn you, damn you, Sara!"

She drew her hand away from the doorknob and pulled it close to her. What? How had she come this way? She had not intended to! Frantically she pulled her pocketwatch out and flipped it open. It wasn't yet eight…it was half after seven, nothing more! She had come this way by mistake, so distracted by reading that she hadn't even paid attention to where she was walking.

She stepped away from the door, a sudden strange feeling of panic overtaking her. What was she so afraid of? She didn't know, she had never known, yet every day she stayed away.

His voice was harsh and unnatural and she would hardly have recognized it as his own. "For taking me down into this cavern, this, this, this dead place, this underworld…this isn't my home. This isn't my home, Sara! It will never be, I don't care how long you leave me here, I will never believe you…"

She had to go find the rest of the plans now, find the maps. There were plans to find, and she had to keep herself busy with them. Too many plans. Why was she still here? She had work to do, lots of work…

"I hope that...what is it? What is that? No, I disagree," it sounded for a moment like he was talking to someone else. "No! No! You don't understand either! But I will teach you, then, too, and we'll escape in the end. No, stay there, stay near the fire...what is that? No." then clarity again, "…don't know why I even bother saying anything, you can't hear me anyway…"

She had no intention of staying here. That was it, she was leaving. Leaving right now. She adjusted the plans in her hands and quickly turned, walking down the hall as far away as possible, trying to stop her racing heart by focusing on the plans. But it was nearly impossible to focus now. She had spent eight months and fifteen days away, finding every excuse possible. She didn't want to hear this. It wasn't her place to stay, it was her duty to keep herself occupied, for there was not a reason why she should stay and hear…hear this…

There was no reason why she should hear his voice cursing her name, hear how strange he spoke like this and how unlike him it was…and at the same time, how curiously…and ridiculously…pure his voice sounded, however harsh, how it had such a depth and timbre she wasn't used to hearing any other time. It was wrong to stay, wrong to listen, wrong to wonder what it would be like to stand next to him during that time, so different from any other time, different from every other hour in the day…

No reason to stay. No reason to come back, either. It was an accident, and she would think better of it next time.

She found the map room and spread the plans down on the desk, immediately finding all the failed ones and setting them up in a circle around the latest blank sheet. She put the pencils on the map and took a protractor from the nearest shelf, and then settled down in front of the blank parchment to figure out what the best way around that solid stone would be.

Sara focused entirely on the map, locking the door and refusing anyone entrance as she started on her newest idea. She stayed there all night, until the wicks burned themselves out and she didn't feel like lighting them again. Then she left, locking the door again to keep anyone from getting to the scrolls, and returned to her own apartments on the other side of the castle. She pulled the curtains shut, even though there was no reason…it was high up in the castle, and there was no light underground to wake her in the morning, only the artificial light that she set up through all Underland. And that light was never as bright as she wanted it, for no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to recreate the sun.

It was only a small encounter, Sara thought as she tied the curtains shut. It was a moment in passing. She had just taken the wrong way and been too distracted to notice where she was going. That was all, and she'd know better not to make that mistake again. It shouldn't matter, for it was only a moment, and she didn't stay long enough to hear anything more or involve herself further. That hour was not hers. It didn't belong to her, it never would, and furthermore, she never wanted it to.

It took her longer than usual to fall asleep that night, and her dreams were increasingly unsettling. She kept waking up in the night, then going to back to sleep, unable to get a grip on whatever restlessness was overtaking her. She turned on the light and tried to read, then made some tea, and finally she fell into a real sleep sometime after four in the morning.

She awoke late the next morning, but couldn't remember what any of her dreams had been, or what had made them so disturbing. Those details were lost to the night, and if she forgot them, all the better. There were some dreams, even in this kingdom of Sayn Taera, that were best left for the darkness.

* * *

There was no reason to go back again the next day, only the fact that she had to tell one of the guards something she had forgotten the previous day. That was the only reason, really, and it was a lot that she had to tell this guard, so she had to stay longer than she anticipated. There was no reason the day after that, or for the rest of the week, but she managed to find reasons, find excuses, find things to do that would take her past there without even fully realizing that she was.

Perhaps it was some strange responsibility she felt, standing there, often talking to her guards or asking them for something or pointing out something on the plans, when she heard his cries, his cursing. He never sounded like that any other time, and years ago when she knew him, he never spoke like this no matter how angry he was. The curses, surely, he had to have picked up from her…they never spoke that way back in Narnia, but in Mayharran it was quite common. But it felt so strange, to hear him talking that way…too creative, he was, shouting…screaming…all the terrible things he wanted to see happen to her, and then the desperation…the praying that someone would find their way down here and let him go home where he was sure they were still waiting for him.

They don't wait, Sara wanted to say. You only think they do, but in the end, everyone forgets. But she couldn't tell him that, it wasn't her place, it wasn't her business. This hour belonged to him and she refused to trespass on that, and didn't want to hear the screams, the cries…

There was no reason to keep returning and standing outside the door and listening. Only the fact that despite the cursing, his voice sounded more like his than it ever did before, that it was clear and true and even she could notice that. Or perhaps it was the emotion…he never did that any other time, never sounded that angry, or that intense…some sort of strange intensity that she kept returning to listen to, despite the fact that she hated it. Perhaps it was that emotion, that strange depth which she never saw any other time of the day, no matter how hard she tried. It was this time, this emotion, that she never shared with him, and felt a sudden and strange desire to do so…

But those weren't good reasons. There weren't any good reasons.

But still, she returned.

* * *

Ten months and…and…he forgot how many days. He was supposed to remember, and had been keeping count, then one day he forgot to count and now…now all he knew was ten months, and he could only guess as to how long it was from now on. He was sure of the ten months, but that was all he was sure of right now. That and the fact that no one was coming. The witch had made sure that no one would be able to get here…she had taken a thousand precautions against it and anything else. He had checked, and rechecked, until he gave up checking. She was too thorough. She knew too much and knew how exactly to counter everything he could possibly think of…

Damn witch. He never dreamed of calling anyone a witch, but it was the only word appropriate enough. And he had heard her use the word "damn" enough to know that it must mean something horrible. They never said that in Narnia, but if she said it, maybe it was some sort of horrid Mayharran curse, worse than anything one could say back home. And she deserved it.

Ten months and it felt like he had always been here, that nothing else existed outside this room and this hour. No one ever came here…nothing but his own voice that echoed through the room as he shouted, cursed, screamed…did anything to affirm the fact that he did in fact exist and hadn't been lost to madness, or lost to some distant world and forgotten. Even Sara didn't come, and he had thought she would…but no. Whatever he had remembered with her, any friendship that had once existed between them, that was gone now. He didn't care about that anymore, it was meaningless, far in a past that he wasn't even sure existed. Maybe all his memories were created. Everything he recalled from home, from the trees reaching towards the sky and the way the stars shone in pools of water when the sky was clear…maybe those were all imagined. There were people at home who wrote stories and could create entire worlds from their imagination and put it on a page…maybe he was one of those people. Maybe he dreamed a beautiful world where one could look into pools and see stars, dip their hands in the cool water and feel for a brief moment like they were holding the stars.

Rilian coughed, his voice hoarse from shouting. That was something, too…at least he could still feel that, the pain in his throat and at his wrists, though granted it wasn't much. He figured it had been a half hour now, and he still had some time left…though to do what, he didn't know. He felt too tired to say anything more. Maybe he could remember…this time…there had been one day when he was standing outside in the gardens, feeding the birds…the birds, not the Talking Birds, because Birds would never allow themselves the indignity of eating seeds out of someone's hands. When Birds visited Cair Paravel (he said that name three times out loud for good measure), they were always given their own bowl of seeds. It was polite.

"It was polite," he said to no one. "It would be demeaning to the Birds to treat them like common animals. They visited my mother all the time, and she loved it when they came." Again, no one answered him. If they knew at home he was talking to himself like this, surely they'd think him mad…if there was a home, if there were people at home who still remembered who he was.

Then there was a sound by the door.

Rilian's head came up. "Hello? Who's there?" Maybe it was a guard! A person, a real person, come to open the door and at least speak, if nothing else. Or maybe someone had come at last!

There was another noise, a shuffle perhaps, a sound of a handle being turned. Or if not turned, at least touched. Someone was there! He couldn't possibly imagine something like that!

"Who is it? Please, just answer me. The door should be unlocked, or you can ask the guards to unlock it. They'll do it, I'm sure, if you introduce yourself well enough." Someone was here. Someone from Narnia did exist and they had come all the way down here searching, and now they had finally found him!

There was no sound for a moment, then a small noise, then the handle stopped being turned.

"No! Wait! I'm sure the guards will let you in! Please, just answer me! You don't have to do anything else, just answer me…" Don't go away. Please. Don't leave, just talk to me, just say something…let me know that…that I'm not alone in this dark world…

"I can help you, if that's what you need…if you can't find your way out of this world, I can find you maps…I know where the map rooms are, I think, and if you'll just come in here and let me out I can help you. Or if you need anything else. I can do a lot of things, you know, and I've seen a lot…I'm going to be king of Narnia someday, so…so there's a lot I can do, just please, please don't go away." He was leaning forward now, his hands tight on the armrests and wrists straining against the bonds. "Please don't leave. Just say something, I don't care what, even if it's just your name…I'm sure you have a name, everyone does…just…" There was no movement now, just silence. "Please don't leave me," his voice had dropped down to a whisper, and then the whisper turned into absolute silence.

There was no one there.

Maybe there hadn't been anyone at all. Maybe he imagined all those sounds, so desperate to know that he existed and so did other people and he wasn't tied to a chair alone in a dead world where there was nothing left for him outside this room and the fireplace and the cursed smell of rosemary.

It was ten months, and there was never going to be anyone else. No daring rescues, no one ever going to speak to him again. No one even knew he was here, and they weren't going to come for him. Escape was hopeless, wishing was hopeless, everything he had insisted for the past ten months was all a flight of fancy that would dissolve into nothing and be gone as quickly as the sparks from the fire, lighting brilliant for a moment in the darkness and then going out again, meaningless and fleeting.

There would never be anyone here.

For the first time in ten moths, he realized how hopeless this all was. There would never be an escape. He would be here, forever, with no company but his own madness and memories of a land he'd never see again.

And so he closed his eyes, for a moment, and then wept…more than he ever had before, deep, wracking sobs that shook his entire body. And he couldn't even move, couldn't even lift a hand to wipe the blinding tears from his eyes. This prison was all that would ever exist. And sooner or later Narnia would forget him, and his father would choose another person to become king, and Sal…she'd marry someone else, and go off to live in Archenland or, Lion forbid, Calormen…Mien and Toire would leave the castle and do some other sort of duty…Drinian, he was old, and he would someday die and Rilian wouldn't be there to see his friend one last time, or his father, or anyone. He'd only stay here until maybe he too died, or the witch was successful in all her terrible plans. Until the first thing he saw in the overworld would be the witch, victorious, forcing his father to bow before her, and then watch as she killed him.

If there even was a Narnia.

No! No, in Aslan's name, there _was _a Narnia. And this was no way for a prince of Narnia to behave, no matter how desperate the situation might seem. He forced himself to stop, taking several deep breaths to stop the heavy sobs. He had to stay in control and remember. That was the most important thing…_remembering. _He couldn't let himself forget anything, and couldn't let himself despair like this anymore. There was hope, wasn't there? There had to be. There was always hope. During the hundred years of winter, the people managed to stay strong. Yes, they did despair…but they also believed, unwaveringly, in the prophecy, and that sooner or later it would come true and save them from this torment. There was no prophecy here, but…but it wouldn't be like this forever. It couldn't. Aslan would help him eventually…Aslan helped all his children, and Rilian was a child of Narnia, even if he couldn't remember Narnia.

No. He had to remember. Even if Narnia didn't exist anymore and was just a dream, he had to honor that dream, that vanished world, that memory. It wouldn't do justice to any of those people to forget altogether, to despair, to think he'd never go back. He would…it would just take time. They wouldn't forget him. They wouldn't forget…never…

There was a Narnia. He had to stop this foolishness now. And he did exist.

"I am Prince Rilian," he said out loud, his voice harsh and mouth dry. "Son of Caspian, tenth of that name, whom some call Caspian the Seafarer, king of Narnia. I live in Cair Paravel, the capital of Narnia, and it overlooks the sea…when you stand there and watch the sunset, you can see the entire ocean turn red. My mother was the daughter of a star brought from the end of the world back home, and she knew more than she let on." He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to stare at the fire, still flickering in the fireplace "I am Prince Rilian, son of Caspian, king of Narnia, and my mother once taught me the names of the stars…she would take me outside long after everyone had gone to sleep, and she would make me promise not to tell anyone because it was far after my bedtime and my father would be quite angry if he found out I was out that late. We would sit out in the garden…in the clearing, between the lime trees, and sometimes we would lie on the ground and I could feel the grass on my face, and no one else was around…only my mother and I…and we would look at the sky and she would teach me the names of the stars. It was our own secret, and I never told anyone…not even Drinian, not even my father. And…the names. I have to remember them. She taught me all of them and we'd recite them together, or sing, even though I can't sing. They were…were…" he paused. "Dalthrey, the morning star. Eldrin, the first star to shine when the sun went down. Firtan. Morathe. Ytria. Lamarra. Igrets." He remembered all the names. "Diar. Plethen. Amirali…"

He could name all the stars…

* * *

This was wrong, all wrong. She should have never come back after that first day.

Sara sat on the ground now, outside the door, her back pressed against the wall. Her eyes were tightly shut but she could still hear.

This was different from before. She could tolerate the cursing and swearing…that she was used to, and that she would expect, though it was still strange to hear her name being spoken so viciously. But somehow she could handle that, though she didn't know why. Anger was a part of life, maybe that was it. She didn't know. She didn't feel like figuring it out. But this…

Not this. He never cried, not her Rilian, not like that. Tears of grief, maybe…she had seen that before…or of joy…but never this, not the desperate sobbing of someone who despaired of never again truly living, of ever being free, of ever having someone there to give him something real to believe in when he was left with only the madness of his mind and his voice for company. And then speaking like that, over and over again, reciting his name, the stars…trying to remember when he hadn't seen it in months.

She pressed her hands to her ears childishly and closed her eyes tightly as the minutes wore on.

Eventually his cries ceased, but they rang on still in her mind no matter how hard she tried to erase them.

And thus a year passed.


	27. Chapter 27

((Uh...wow, guys, I'm not entirely sure what to say except thank you! It surprises me so much to read such reviews as you gave me! I guess...well, I never expected to post this thing, I was just writing it for fun and then it kind of got out of control. I expected it to be a short story, too. Yeah I had to do a lot of research, spent way too long in the library, and I think I went through two copies of SC because I'm one of those OCD people who believes if you're writing fanfiction, you have to get every piece of canon right down to the windows at Harfang. Anyway, I am so thrilled you are enjoying this story! Only five chapters and an epilogue left. Phew))

Sara was focused on sketching the best she could a lemur, one of the creatures native to Mayharran. They were funny looking things, not quite monkeys, not quite squirrels, but still fuzzy with long tails and wide eyes that would cling to the branches and sometimes hang down and stare at you. She had a dream and recalled the lemurs then, and had awoke only a half hour ago and had been sketching since, determined not to lose the image as it faded from her mind after the dream. Narnia didn't have lemurs, but she used to, when she was young…they had a pet lemur…almost every family did.

Sara wasn't very good at drawing but could get the basic concept of the creature down so when she went to look at it again it would trigger the memory. This was one she wasn't about to lose. It was bad enough she forgot the color of Mordian's eyes, so much time had passed. She had forgotten even the way his face was shaped, the way his hair fell, the annoying way he would poke her in the shoulder just to bother her because as an older brother, it was his job. It had been so long that everything about her older brother had vanished except for the concept, the vaguest outline of his face, his name…

She didn't want to lose the lemur now.

Just then, a tremor shook the castle. It was sudden and unexpected, and jolted the sketching pencil in her hand sending a dark swath of graphite across the lemur's face.

Another tremor ran through the castle. Sara abandoned the paper and threw open the door, running into the hallway. "Guards!" she shouted into the hallway. "Where are my guards?"

No guards answered her call, and the castle was actually shaking now. What, had they all fled the castle? They're gnomes, they should be used to this sort of thing!

She made her way down the hall despite the shaking and down several other corridors and flights of stairs until she came to the main part of the castle. The door into the rotunda in the very center was jammed…cursing, she grabbed the handle and pulled but with no avail. Something must be blocking it on the other side.

"Guards!" she shouted again. Finally someone answered her, a small gnome only two feet high with a spear almost twice as tall, staggering down the shaking hallway to land next to her, imbalanced from the weight of the spear which was difficult to carry even under normal circumstances. "Get up! Help me open this door! Where are the others? There weren't any guards up where I was, and usually this whole palace is filled with people. What is the meaning of this?" The hall shook again, throwing Sara against the blocked door, and the gnome sprawling on the floor.

"Apologies, majesty," the gnome gasped out. "There were only a few up there with you, but they all left at the first tremor, majesty. They were afraid. This hasn't happened before!"

"They will be punished for such disobedience. What's happening?"

"I don't know," the gnome apologized.

"Well, we'll find out later. Now, help me open this door!" the door led to a glorious rotunda in the center of the palace. It was up one floor from the entrance to the castle and was ornately done, hung with the best tapestries, the most elaborate lighting, and a beautiful carpet in the center of a crystal floor. The doorways on the left all led to the prince's apartments, and the ones on the right to Sara's. The front and back of the rotunda led to other various parts of the castle, and the furthest north door led upstairs to the second level of the rotunda. It was the central location in the castle, and if she couldn't get into this, it would be difficult to get anywhere else.

The gnome left his spear on the floor and tried to jam his small fingers into the door, but it still wouldn't budge. After a few seconds of this and a few more quakes, Sara gave up and threw a handful of orange powder at the door. She stepped back and held her arms up in front of her face to protect her from the explosion that followed. The door was gone, and so were the two large stones that were blocking the door, all ground into dust. She forgot to tell the gnome to stand back, and realized with mild annoyance that a large piece of rock had struck his head and the impact had shattered his skull and he had died. Disgusting, unnecessary, and that left her more work having to clean it up later.

She stepped through into the rotunda. The floor was littered with fallen debris, but thankfully for the most part the rest of the doors were cleared except for smaller rocks that could be easily moved. Most of the lights had been shattered and only two remained untouched, but that didn't give much light to the rotunda.

What time was it? She rested against the wall and stood against the tremors as she tried to pull out her pocketwatch. It was only five minutes after seven…that was it? Surely it had to be later…

The room shook again and the pocketwatch was dislodged from her hand. It fell to the floor and shattered against the crystal, fine gold parts glittering on the floor. Gods be damned! She needed that watch! And now in addition to having to make countless repairs because of tremors of an unknown origin, she would have to get a new pocketwatch. For some reason, that annoyed her more than the shaking did. And where the hell were the rest of the gnomes? Had they all fled the castle? Irritated, she touched two fingers to the jewels around her neck, intent on calling as many as possible to her immediately. But then…wait…five minutes past seven?

The room shook again. Five past seven! She couldn't call Rilian to her now, because now was…gods be damned, it was during that hour…she had decided to stay away today, a wise decision in her eyes, but…but the guards were idiots and did nothing but stand in front of the door and guard, and what if they had disappeared as well as the rest of the castle seemed to? Or what it falling debris had killed them? She didn't know the damage in the rest of the castle. Oh, gods, and he couldn't escape…what if that room was destroyed…

Against her better judgment, she crossed the room and pulled the lever, opening the gate that led into the eastern apartments. She could fix the pocketwatch later. She could make another one. She could trade for one when she went back to Harfang, whenever that would be. Finally she found her way to the room furthest in the back. Of the two guards, one of them was knocked out by debris, and the other one clearly fled. "Idiots!" she cried, glaring at the dead gnome as if it was his fault. "Idiots can't even do their job right! Moment there is a crisis, they're the first runs running out of the damn castle…" she grabbed the handle of the door and wrenched it open.

The damage in the room was minimal. Clearly the mysterious disaster hadn't reached enough back to destroy anything. The fire was out, and several beakers had fallen off one of the shelves and their contents were staining the carpet on the rug. Other than that, everything else was still carefully preserved.

"I…Sara?"

She turned around and for a moment didn't know what to say.

The room was mostly untouched except for a few bits of fallen debris and the lack of the fire which she had set to go off in case of an emergency such as this. Rilian looked relatively unharmed…relatively safe…except for the bewildered expression on his face, and for a moment she wasn't sure he even recognized her.

"Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "Yes, it's me,"

"Sara…Sara Inari?"

"Yes…"

For a moment he only stared, a look of strange intensity on his face, and she found herself unable to look away. But instead he did, closing his eyes and turning away from her. "What do you want?" he said, his voice suddenly unnaturally harsh. "You have no right to be here."

"There was…" for a moment she couldn't think of what she was trying to say initially. He looked nothing like this any other time. He wasn't even facing her and she could still see the difference…there was a strange cast to his eyes, lines on his face that weren't there any other time, a look that was…that held genuine emotion instead of his usual expression of blind adoration. He looked tense and flinched when she took a step nearer. She cleared her throat. "There've been several quakes of unknown origin. I was coming to see if you had been hurt. Can't trust the guards to do anything…one of them was dead, and the other had obviously fled the moment the first tremor struck. He isn't alone…most of the other gnomes fled as well, and the one I saw remain was unable to give me answers as to the origin of the tremors." Her voice was level, and all she was speaking scientifically. She could do scientific.

He raised his head, and then turned to look at her. "There…there are guards?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, of course there are, why wouldn't there be? I can't afford to take any chances on anything."

"Where are they? The guards?"

"I told you, one of them is dead and the other…"

"No, I don't mean now, I mean, before, before the…the quakes, yes, where were they?"

"Outside the door?"

"Really?"

"Yes, why?"

He shook his head slowly. "There are guards. And they stand outside the door? Are they always standing there? Have they always been standing there? I never hear them. They spoke to me once. Did they really speak to me? Did I imagine that, too?"

"Listen, this really isn't important," she replied impatiently, pulling on a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "I didn't come to talk about guards. I wanted to see if you were hurt, but…but I see you're fine, so I should go see if I can find the rest of the gnomes and find out what happened, I need to find that immediately."

"You just said 'find' three times," he said, nodding. "That means you are real."

She didn't know what to say to that. "Well, I have to go do that," was all she could think of, and knew that was an inadequate response. What else did one say to that?

_Think about it, Sara, _the more clinical minded part of her brain said. _When was the last time he saw anyone during this time? A year and eight months ago._

She placed a hand on the door handle and opened the door.

"Wait!"

His voice was so shocking and suddenly desperate that she had to stop. "What…what is it?"

"Don't…don't…leave," he didn't meet her eyes, and said this in such a small voice that she couldn't look at him for a moment either.

"I suppose I can stay for a minute, then," she said quietly. "But then I have to leave, because I don't know what happened to make the castle shake like that. Do you…understand that?"

"Yes," he replied obediently.

She sat down in the other chair closer to the fire. The fire was still out and the room was chilly now, so she pulled the blanket off the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"What about the guards?" he asked.

"What about them?"

"I asked you about the guards. Tell me about them. The ones you said were outside the door."

"Well, they're guards, I suppose," she looked at her hands in her lap. "They are there every day. They just don't talk because they…they really don't have anything interesting to say normally, much less when they're guards. They don't even talk to me half the time, and you figure they would, considering I'm their queen. But they're generally silent people and when you speak with them, you often get quite bored because they never say anything worth listening to."

"I spoke to them once," he said, sounding very adamant about that. "I'm pretty sure I did. And they spoke back. Could that have happened?"

"Certainly. They don't say much, but they respond when you talk to them."

"Oh, that's…that's good. But they are always there, right? How long have they been there?"

"A year and eight months," she said before she could think not to.

"Oh." There was an even longer pause. "Is that…that…how long it's been?"

"Yes. I thought you would know that."

"There isn't a calendar here and I…lost count," he sounded almost ashamed of that.

"Well, maybe I'll put a calendar if I remember. But I'm very busy; one can't expect me to remember everything."

"No! Of course not, I don't expect you to, I shouldn't have even said…" he blinked. "No. No, that's what I should say the rest of the time. Not now. I can say whatever I want now, can't I?" he looked to the left, as if staring at something that wasn't there. "Right?" There was of course no response from the empty air. "You're right. She's probably not even real anyway. Maybe the guards are but I don't see them either. I'm sure they're more real than witches, those are only people of legend,"

Somehow this made her more afraid than the tremors did. She felt even colder now. "Who are you talking to?"

He ignored her. "Well wasn't that wise of me," he said to the spot. "Talking to nonexistent witches. Remind me never to do that again…I'm sure my father would have been disappointed of me." He nodded wisely at the space. "I'm glad I caught that in time. Don't tell anyone else, promise?"

She pulled the shawl even tighter around her shoulders, now forgetting all about the tremors. During the rest of the day he was usually with her or close enough where she could see him. He would smile and bow and speak to her, kiss her hand and speak whatever came into her mind. But here in this cold room during this time she had absolutely no power over him. She hadn't for a year and eight months, and during that time…oh, gods, what else could she expect, alone with nothing but his fevered thoughts and limited movement? Who knew what other things he could be seeing, creating out of a desperation to speak to someone, anyone, and affirm the fact that he did exist.

She should have thought of that before. But her experience didn't teach her anything about this. She had been alone and separated from Mayharran for years now…many years…enough years where her brother's voice became no more than a memory and her best friend's smile something only in dreams that would vanish upon waking…but she had never been alone. She had been in Narnia, and then Harfang, and then here. Here was the closest she had ever come, with the silent gnomes of Bism doing her bidding…but she could make them speak if she chose, and could go to Harfang if the silence and the darkness became too much. She should have thought of this.

"Rilian," she said softly. Could she still correct this? Would he even trust her to? No, not after this. Why would he trust his captor who had the twisted idea to do this in the first place?

She should have waited to come here until after eight, no matter how great the tremors had become. But it was too late to do that now.

"Rilian," she repeated.

He ignored her. "I won't listen," he assured the blank spot.

She stood up and took several steps forward. Then, ever so lightly, she touched his hand.

He jolted as if his entire body was struck by lightning. "Who are you?" he demanded roughly. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything," she said, struggling to keep her voice soft. "I was just coming to see if you were unharmed after the tremors struck."

He opened his eyes then and looked at her, and for the first time she could tell he was seeing her clearly and knew who she was. She didn't remove her hand.

"Sara. Yes. I'm fine." He answered.

"Well, I'm glad. I had been worried. The two guards usually here…one of them died and the other fled the castle with the rest."

"I believe you just told me that,"

"I did, but I wasn't sure if you…"

He looked at the blank spot on the far wall and blinked several times. "I thought there was…"

"Was what?"

"Drinian, he was asking me to…no. No, he was never there, was he."

"No. You and I are the only ones here."

"Then you're the real one. I had thought so, you said 'fine' three times and I couldn't imagine any of the rest of them doing that…they always spoke…very clearly. Very precisely. They didn't stammer or repeat anything, so I'm…guessing…that you were the only real one here."

"I'm afraid so."

"Yes. Well." He cleared his throat. "Very well, then. I should have expected. There aren't any Narnians coming to find me, are there? I had thought there were, and they tried to open the door several times. But those were the guards? Right?"

"I don't know what they were, but there haven't been any Narnians here save for yourself. I have protected all the entrances and they would get lost in the labyrinth leading down here unless they had a guide."

"Right. Of course. Think of everything, don't you," he added this last thing almost bitterly.

"I try to."

He looked at her hand, and for a moment looked like he was trying to touch it with his other hand to reassure himself of its reality, but couldn't move either arm. "At least you're not a ghost."

"No, I'm not. I'm very much alive. So are you."

"You exist,"

"Yes."

"I exist, then?"

"Of course."

"Then this is not…"

"Not what?"

"A dream,"

She sighed, closing her hand around his. He didn't move, only tensed up slightly.

"I ask myself that sometimes," she said absently. "Whether or not this is a dream. It seems like that, doesn't it? I can say that if you stand at the highest tower of the castle and look out across the kingdom, and then across the sea, you can't tell any differently from if you are here. It blends together after awhile. One corridor looks like the rest, one gnome looks like all the others. And the sea is terribly monotonous, it goes on forever…feels like it does. I hate sailing on it. No matter how many lights are on the boat or how much music I play on my mandolin, after an hour…two hours…I still forget how long we've been sailing."

"I don't remember sailing," he said distantly.

"Surely you do. I'm sure you remember a lot of things, it just takes awhile sometimes. I forgot what lemurs were until I had a dream about them. I was trying to draw it when the tremors came. I still remember them…it's…you don't forget things entirely. Sometimes it just takes longer to find them again."

"I'll find them again, won't I?"

"If I can find lemurs, I'm sure you'll find…"

"Sailing."

"Sailing." She agreed. "I'm sure you've sailed…much…more recently than I've seen lemurs."

"Then you forget, too," he closed his eyes.

"Yes," she said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, almost too silent to be heard. "I do,"

The door opened and two guards entered, heads high and spears pointed at attention. "Your majesty," they saluted.

She jerked her hand away and threw the shawl off, leaving it on the floor as she sat back on her own chair. Rilian turned away from her again, but now was looking at the gnomes and nodding, very slowly, as if he finally understood the fact that they were there.

"What is it?" The moment was broken now, whatever strange bind had held them the second before dissipated. Sara found her annoyance returning quickly upon seeing the guards finally show up. "Oh, so now you decide to show," she snapped, finding her voice and her authority once again. "As soon as the first tremor strikes, you all seem to flee the castle."

The two exchanged horrified glances. The first dropped the spear and fell to his knees. "We did that!" he wailed suddenly. "Oh, our humblest apologies!"

"Oh, we are ever so sorry!" the second added quickly.

"How many of them left? I demand to know why."

"Almost all of us, and…and we…there are no quakes where we came from, we weren't sure of how to react, we panicked…"

"Instinct,"

She jumped hearing Rilian's voice. She turned around to look back at him, and noticed he was staring at the gnomes and looking…thoughtful? Yes.

"What?"

He looked at her and then indicated the gnomes again. "Instinct," he repeated. "It's quite common if you think about it. It's something that happens with a lot of the dumb beasts at home. I don't know what they have but…the horses. You have horses there? In Harfang? You live there, am I remembering that right?"

"Yes…"

"Well, the horses, then. When the giants get near the horses. The horses, I'm sure, they…they run, don't they? Run away from the giants even though the giants are unthreatening and don't mean them harm. They do that?"

"They do that a lot, yes."

"That's instinct," he nodded and looked so serious that she had to keep listening. "When something happens and they don't know how to react to that, they refer back to instinct. I think that's what the gnomes did. Don't have quakes back at home, that one said. Didn't know what else to do, so they ran outside to get away from the source. I think."

Sara glanced back at the gnomes, both of who were groveling now.

"Well, give me a report," she said to the gnomes without acknowledging anything that Rilian said. "I want to know what happened. Get up and tell me."

The first gnome rose. "There were faults in the rock that we didn't see," he reported. "There was a strike-slip fault that we missed, and the pressure and our movement made the fault to finally give. It caused a large part of the tunnel to break apart. The faults ran deep and were very instable. Enough was broken apart where the tunnel will…have to be started over again, your majesty. This one was a failure. The tremors were because of the tunnel breaking apart, the fault, and the rock falling on the castle. Several repairs will be made as soon as you give the orders, your majesty."

Sara tapped her fingers on the armrest. "And how is it that you haven't seen these faults before?"

"We didn't know what to look for, your majesty. We are unaccustomed to that type of faults in rock here. We will not make that mistake again!"

"You will not! Now…now…" she sighed, frustrated. "Now go and begin the repairs on the castle right now. Make sure they are also guarded against any other faults and unfortunate accidents. Do whatever you have to keep the fault from reopening. Don't begin the tunnel again until I figure out what to do."

"You want to rebuild the tunnel, your majesty?"

"Yes! But not yet. Give me time to figure out how to plan this one. Now go!"

The gnomes obeyed, scurrying out the door. Sara sighed and put her head in her hands. Faults in the rock! The idiots missed that! They were gnomes, they lived in the rock every day of their lives in Bism, and they somehow managed to miss a fault that was that big and that troublesome? She'd have to find a new place to start the tunnel again, and it had already fallen once…or twice? No, it had been twice, hadn't it. This didn't seem to be working. She wanted to get to Narnia as soon as possible, but every time she tried, something happened to impede her progress!

"It's not their fault, really,"

She raised her head. "You're still…"

"It's not eight yet," he answered flatly. "I'll say what I want until then."

She nodded. "Of course. I understand…"

"Then you shouldn't blame them for the fault. They're going to fix it now, won't they? I'm sure they'll do a better job now that they have a chance to start over. They're clearly very loyal to you."

"They are,"

"Then don't worry."

"At least…no one has been seriously hurt," she had already forgotten about the gnome who died when she tried to get into the rotunda.

"Exactly,"

This was unsettling her too much. The tone of his voice, the way he spoke clearly with an effort to say exactly what he wanted to say…and the depth, the fact that his voice had a greater depth and inflection to it than usual. It didn't seem right, and she hated it, but it was also more right than any other time of day.

"Well, I have to leave," she stood up abruptly. "There is too much work to be done on the palace now and I have to find my plans and see where to go from now. Good day, Rilian."

"Sara…"

"What? I have to go." She said impatiently.

"I…I was…"

"What?"

"Will you return here tomorrow? I don't…it's…I would…someone here, speaking. It's more real than the shadows on the wall." He finally said.

She hesitated. It would be a very bad idea. She had already told herself that she wouldn't get involved. But from a clinical perspective…

"Perhaps," was all she said. "If I have time." And then she left the room.

In the eyes of a healer, it would no doubt be the best thing to do. If she left him alone like this…that would be a terrible idea. She had thought initially it would be the best…allow him this time to himself where his thoughts would belong entirely to him. It was not her business to intrude on this.

But it would be unwise! Her initial thoughts had been wrong. Leaving him alone…gods, how easy it was, alone with no one else in the world, to lose oneself to madness and wander among visions of what the mind perceived as reality.

She didn't have to speak. All she had to do was be there. She could just sit there for that hour…read a book, maybe. Work on her plans. There were plenty of simple things that she could occupy herself with.

Sara didn't know how long it would take to actually tunnel to the surface, what with all these impediments along the way. It was making work difficult and she would have to manage her time better. It wouldn't do to have Rilian go mad in that time in between, wouldn't do to have him seeing things that weren't there…after all, she didn't intend to keep him enchanted forever. Once she had taken over Narnia properly and was named their queen and she and Rilian were married in the highest terrace of Cair Paravel before all Narnia, there would be no need to keep him enchanted. All would have been achieved by that point. But then…what would happen, if she let things continue along this course? The moment she lifted the magic, he would be insane. She didn't want that. She had not come this far and done all this work simply to have him stare at fevered visions and talk to perceived apparitions and memories from the past…

No, she didn't want that. Not for her, not…not for him. He didn't deserve that. He deserved some semblance of life, and…and she could give him this at least, right? At least some company during that time to assure him that he was not alone in this world and did exist, and would always exist.

It would be wise. Insanity was unnecessary when she could prevent it.

She walked down the hall and crossed the rotunda, finding the stairs and going back up to where she had been drawing before. The lemur remained untouched, still with the mark across its face. But now she had forgotten the rest of the image and couldn't bring it to the forefront of her mind no matter how hard she tried.

She crumpled the ruined drawing and rekindled the fire, throwing the paper into the fireplace and watching the flames eat the paper away into nothing.

He belongs to me, she thought then, the smell of charred paper filling the room. Every minute of the day, every hour, every instant.

Away from the room, that terrible unsettling feeling had lifted, and her mind felt clear again. It was the first time she had seen and spoke to him during that hour, and it had been strange enough to disturb her. She would just have to get used to that, then. She would be able to do it. She hadn't created an entire kingdom out of nothing just to be unsettled by one person speaking differently than he usually spoke, looking different, having a certain genuine intelligence to his eyes and inflections to his voice that was all too familiar and wonderful and true.

And it belonged to her! She had forgotten that in the face of something she had never seen before. She just had to get used to it. She could get used to change, and this was only something new she would have to deal with.

That voice, that true, clear sound to it…it was hers. That bright intelligence and determination, the way he looked intensely at her, or even at the spot and nonexistent people he had seen in his mind…that belonged to her. Everything that he was, it was all hers, and she had forgotten that!

This hour belonged to her as well. To both of them. She couldn't allow it to escape her, for if she did, it would mean that…that there was an aspect of him that she would never own. She couldn't allow that. And if there was madness…she saw it, the beginnings of madness…she couldn't allow that either. He could only believe himself mad when she decided that he would, and…and this was not one of those times. She didn't allow it now. Cultivated madness, she could do that...she proved that well. But true madness…she could not let that happen.

She forbade it. That was it.

The paper was completely eaten away by the fire, and the clock chimed…nine times. Nine! She had been here a whole hour, staring into the fire. It was mesmerizing, it was relaxing. It reminded her of her forgotten purpose.

She would return tomorrow. It was the only right thing for her to do.

* * *

"_I didn't think you were going to return," Rilian said quietly, five minutes after the clock chimed, blinking in the bright light and now in the warmth of the room since she had rekindled the fire. "I remember asking you to, but I assumed it was a lost cause."_

"_I keep my promises," she replied slightly stiffly. _

"_I see that,"_

_She gave a small nod of acknowledgement and then opened the book that she brought._

"_What are you reading?"_

_She glanced up. "Just a small book I found in my library back at Harfang."_

"_It is smaller than most books I've seen before," he said in agreement. "What…is it a book of? History?"_

"_It's a journal. It was from one of the earlier inhabitants of Harfang."_

"_Looks awful small for that. From what I remember, Harfang was all giants." _

"_Giants live there, but others came to visit in earlier days…years ago…before you or I ever lived. There were civilized kings there, and they entertained delegates from all over the world. This is one of their journals…I figured it would be interesting to read about Harfang and how it was, as opposed to now."_

"_Ah,"_

_She opened the book to the third entry, dated in some unknown numbering system that went back further than even the legendary Pevensies, whose names still echoed in every Narnian library. Even her Harfang library had a mention of these children who saved the world from a fate worse than death. They…oh, but they were children. They still held that innocence that everything would work out in the end no matter what manner of dreadful things befell them. They found their way into Narnia and stayed for years…after the final battle…they were crowned king and queen and stayed for many years ruling. They didn't even think to find their way back to the wardrobe and return home. Home must not have mattered to them, not family, not friends, not all that existed in their world before they came here._

_Maybe this world was better. Maybe they had escaped some terrible cataclysm that was befalling their own world. Or maybe they just…forgot._

_Still, she wondered. Did they wake up in the early morning having dreamt of a world that they could vaguely remember, scenes and whispers of people who've slipped from their minds? Maybe they did. And maybe then they poured some tea, stirred the fire until it warmed the room, shook their heads and went back to sleep. Maybe all thoughts of their home had been just a dream._

"_What language is it written in?"_

_She stared back at the book. It was an odd, older dialect of Narnian that she was used to reading, as half the books in Harfang that were worth anything were written in that. _

"_I don't know. It's some old Narnian language, I'm not sure of the specifics. Why?"_

"_My father knew some of those old languages. He made a point of learning them after he became king. He thought it would help to get better in touch with old Narnia."_

"_Ah," _

"_I think I could tell you what it is if I saw the writing. I looked at some of the older books in the library and was able to at least be able to tell what dialect it was or how old it was. Education, you know. Tutors. Insisted I learn this even if I'll never use it."_

"_I remember what that was like. Teachers, right? Make you learn things that are absolutely ridiculous and you know as long as you live, you'll never have to know what the square root of forty-nine is."_

_He obviously didn't know what a square root was, but understood the concept. "And you can't escape it, either. I remember…" for a moment he looked intensely at the carpet. "I remember…" and then he smiled. "I had a tutor once, this man with small, round glasses perched on his nose, a long nose that he would poke into books all the time. He wore brown robes with a cord around the waist and insisted that it was what scholars were supposed to wear." He stared harder at the carpet. "And shoes, sandals, even in winter. It was what scholars should do. He told me that a lot, I think it was his favorite phrase. He would prod me with his pen until I finished all my readings. My father, he would always back him up, too. I had to learn everything. I had to know all the history of Narnia, all the names, dates, going back to the beginning. And I'll never have a use for half those dates anyway."_

"_Oh, there's never a need for most of those dates. It's filler, really…teachers don't know what else to teach so they teach the dates of all those nonsense happenings. Wars are important, but do we have to know the exact date it ended?"_

"_That I would understand."_

"_Perhaps. But what about…"_

"_Generals' birthdates? Not so much."_

"_Did you have to learn that?"_

"_I did. I had to memorize them and recite them back to my father. He would make me repeat them over and over until I had them all right."_

_She closed the book. "That doesn't seem too kind,"_

"_I had to learn. It was important, and we both knew it. He wanted to make sure when I was king I would be able to memorize and remember pointless details because they would come up in court sooner or later. It happened a lot, I remember. There was actually some truth to those words."_

"_I suppose," she answered vaguely. "But you won't need to remember any of that when you're king. I don't think it's necessary."_

_He didn't say anything. _

_She went back to the book._

"_May I see it anyway?"_

"_What, my book?"_

"_Yes,"_

"_If you want,"_

_She held it out to him, and he moved as if to take it. For a moment they had forgotten. Then they both hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Finally she opened the book and held it out in front of him so he could see the words written on the page. _

"_It's not that old a dialect," he said slowly after reading two pages of the book. "It's before the Golden Age, though. I think that's when your Harfang had its greatest kings."_

_She closed the book. "It was," she agreed. "I always thought it was a bit of a shame that your High King Peter drove all the giants north. A great amount of the bad ones, the stupid ones, the violent ones…ended up invading Harfang and laying waste to some of the older structures. There's too many ruins in Harfang that have been left over from that time and I do wish I could have seen it. What's left of it is hardly enough to piece anything together."_

"_And the histories I'm sure aren't the most detailed."_

"_No need to be detailed back then. Everyone knew everything, there was no need to write down what was already known."_

"_A lot of history is lost that way."_

"_In Narnia too, I'm sure?"_

"_Yes…a lot…before the Hundred Years' Winter. Everyone knew what was going on so there was no need to write it. Most of what we know from then was passed down through songs and poetry."_

"_Oral history. Most civilizations have that. We did, too."_

"_Who? Harfang?"_

"_No…" she hesitated. "Mayharran. Oral history. We had so many songs and stories for everything and that's how we remembered most things."_

_She closed the book and put it back on the table._

"_Do you miss them?"_

_She hesitated. Yes. Yes I do. I don't know why after more than twenty years I would miss them, but I do. Maybe it's because…I've forgotten so much…_

_It wasn't a question she felt the need to answer. But the bell chimed eight times and she didn't have to._

* * *

And in this manner, three months passed.

There was enough to say when they thought to say it. There was enough to discuss that had nothing to do with Underland and nothing to do with the people home in Narnia. It was mostly small talk…the mention of something that happened in Narnian history, references to old texts in Harfang…easy topics that soon lead to deeper discussions of history and aspects of society in the past. She had enough different ideas about running a country that he liked to hear, and she found Narnian politics much more interesting than Harfang ones, as Narnia actually had _real _politics instead of just wondering about what they were going to eat next. And there was surprisingly enough they both could say and discuss, and for the first time in years Sara felt she had finally met her intellectual equal. For a moment, at least for now, they were two people speaking about things that they shared, instead of a prisoner speaking to his captor every night.

It was an unusual thought. The giants at Harfang, especially her personal ones, were fairly intelligent…but giants in general were not too bright a species, acting mainly on emotion and instinct rather than true thought, and so a giant considered intelligent, while they may have been brighter than the average giant, were still far below the level of a man or woman.

They both remembered Nirisath and often spoke of her. Nirisath was brilliant, a teacher of infinite wisdom that seemed to have an answer to even the most difficult topics. But Nirisath had been gone for years…she was somewhere in the south and Sara doubted she'd be able to find the naiad again unless she really tried, and that was too dangerous. As soon as this is over, she promised. The next thing I do after I become queen and Rilian and I are married in Cair Paravel…I will find Nirisath. I will bring her to this castle as its tutor and my advisor. She was wise and knew people. She will do well for the job.

It never occurred to her that perhaps Nirisath would refuse, perhaps she would resist the invasion of her country and the murder of its natural lords by one of her former students. That idea was distant in Sara's mind, almost inconceivable. Nirisath would be glad to know her old student was alive and would willingly come to the castle.

If not, Sara would make her come. Either things would happen naturally, or she would make them happen. There would be no more waiting and wishing for fate to move it along. Nirisath would come, or Sara would make her come and stay on as a tutor.

Rilian during the rest of the days was exactly the way she wanted him to be. Loving, attending, a good listener, romantic, chivalrous…everything she had always envisioned and remembered. Yet there was something during that hour that was different…she couldn't pinpoint it, and perhaps she didn't want to. Their conversations were different. They had more depth and substance to them…he had opinions and would tell them to her, and sometimes perhaps they would debate…it wasn't like that the rest of the time.

But that didn't matter. No need to dwell on it.

And one year then turned into two.

* * *

"_What season is it?"_

_The conversation had started out average enough, and this sudden interruption startled her. He never asked this before. Perhaps they had both known better than to mention any of that…the civility was enough for her, the conversation, the depth. For him, merely speaking with someone assured him that he did exist and wasn't the only one left in a world he wasn't sure existed anymore. Neither of them passed that unspoken barrier, that mention of anything besides simple conversation. There was no mention of modern Narnia, of the people who lived in it, and for Sara there was no mention of Mayharran, or the plans that went on outside this room, the latest tunnel to the surface which was looking promising._

_It had been that way for three months. Both of them knew which lines to cross and which not to, and didn't dare go beyond it._

_Sara stopped the moment he asked this question. This was undoubtedly going beyond it._

"_It is summer," she said simply, figuring it was best to answer the question and be done with it, and then they would move on with what they had been discussing before._

"_Summer? Is it really?" _

"_Yes."_

"_There's no seasons here, are there? In this Underland. Is there any way of telling time, then? I mean, how do you know? I am assuming you visit Harfang still and can tell the passage of time there, but if not that, is there any way to tell?"_

_Yes, very much overstepping any unmentioned boundaries they had set up._

"_Yes, I have numerous clocks set to the time of day in the surface. And I have calendars from there as well that I have brought from Harfang and use to see how many months have passed."_

"_And how many?"_

"_Of what? Summer? We are two months into summer."_

"_That's fine, but…"_

"_But what?"_

"_I've lost count of how many years I have been here."_

_Crossing all possible boundaries._

"_Two," she said. "And a few months more."_

"_Two." He echoed. "And I suppose you won't tell me anything further, will you? If anyone has come here looking, or if there have been any search on the surface that has somehow passed Harfang? I'm sure they'd have sent notices and you would have received them." There was a pause. "But you wouldn't tell me that, would you." For the first time she detected a slight sarcastic tone to his voice, and it was unusual._

"_No, I wouldn't," she replied coolly. _

"_And I suppose you also won't tell me what my father is doing right now, since no doubt word of what happens in Narnia reaches Harfang. I suppose if you know anything at all about my country, you wouldn't tell me."_

"_No, I wouldn't," she responded. "If I haven't told you thus far, I see no reason to begin now."_

"_That's your sort of logic, isn't it," he wasn't looking for a response, and she didn't give one. But clearly there had been lines crossed that hadn't been crossed before, and new tension hung in the room._

"_So, how was your day," he asked with the same sarcastic tone._

_She pressed her lips thinly together, not missing the jab that was aimed at her. He was intelligent, and was capable of doing this. She never let him any other time, hating sarcasm in people. He would know how her day was. He had been there for most of it, just…didn't remember it._

"_Oh, it was excellent," she replied calmly, but with an edge to her voice as well. "My plans are progressing nicely. The latest tunnel I have built seems to be the most promising one yet. There haven't been any faults in the rock that I might have missed, and barring any accidents, I believe this will be the most successful one that might eventually reach the surface. I am quite pleased at this." Mentioning any of this was one of the lines they never crossed, but he had clearly overstepped that already, and it bothered her. Everything had been going so nicely. They had been so civil to each other, and the idea that it would be ruined now greatly irritated her. _

"_How wonderful," he answered. "I am happy that your plans are going nicely. No doubt I support them, don't I? I'm sure I offer a great deal of encouragement in the future motion of these plans."_

"_Yes, you do. And that's why you should be happy to know how well it is progressing at the moment. With any luck, I hope to break through to the surface within the course of perhaps two, three years, depending on how far it is and how quickly my gnomes work."_

"_Excellent, I'm sure. A worthy plan. And I'm sure you think you'll meet no opposition once you get there, don't you?"_

"_I expect opposition," she almost snapped. "I expect it so that I may bring down my hand and watch as my army destroys Narnia and the remaining people that I let live will press their hands together and kneel in front of me so that they may receive my mercy."_

"_Because they always do that," he replied somewhat nastily. "They always let themselves be conquered by outside forces and do nothing to stop it. Even during the Hundred Years' Winter, you know, there was no opposition."_

"_I'm not worried about opposition!" this time she did snap. "I expect it, and I will be ready for it! I would be disappointed in your people if they didn't oppose me, and that will make it all more satisfying when I destroy the rebellion. But I have no intention of killing them all, you know. That is entirely unnecessary."_

"_I would expect killing people is. You don't seem to have any problem with that." _

"_No, I don't. Such is the mark of an evil enchantress, after all."_

"_You were a healer, so opposed to killing. What happened to that? Did you give that up, too?"_

"_I don't have to answer you," _

"_What about Nirisath?" he went on, oblivious of her reply. "What about her? She wouldn't want her student to kill hundreds of people without so much as a second thought. You dishonor her memory." _

"_You're wrong. She would be proud that her student went on to accomplish such great things."_

"_Do you really believe that?"_

_She didn't. _

* * *

"_What time is it?"_

"_Seven fifteen,"_

"_And what day is it?"_

_She turned around sharply "You ask this every day," she said. "And I'm not going to answer. There's no need to answer."_

"_Why? Are you afraid?" he said mockingly. "The Queen of Underland, afraid of anything? Afraid of a simple date? I thought higher of you, Sarasael."_

"_Do not call me that," she replied tersely._

"_What? And just refer to you as 'your majesty' for the rest of my life? I have no intention of doing that, not even if this idiotic plan of yours succeeds. Which I still hold firm to the belief that it will not."_

_She shrugged. "Believe that if you wish. All of my plans are going accordingly, and I see no reason why it will not succeed."_

"_Because my people will stop you," he spat viciously. "They will find a way to prevent you from doing this. The White Witch held Narnia in winter for a hundred years and even she was defeated."_

"_The White Witch was a fool. She didn't look at her plans from every possible angle. She left out important things that could have solved it if she hadn't ignored it. I am far more pragmatic than that witch."_

"_Pragmatism or not, my people will find a way to stop you, and I will stand by them when they do."_

"_Whatever happened to 'I promise to help you here, Sarasael?'" she replied, this time her voice mocking. "You said that to me once. Several times, I recall."_

"_That was what, twenty years ago? And I said it to Sarasael Inari, a healer's apprentice. Not a mad witch that kills without a thought and forsook all of her healer's vows."_

"_I never took healer's vows. Nirisath's house burned down before I had a chance to take them, or did you forget that as well? There were never any vows for me to take, and therefore nothing I could possibly break."_

"_There were your promises to Nirisath."_

"_My promises to anyone don't matter. I don't have to make promises."_

"_I don't care. My people still won't stand for this. They'll defeat you if you try to take over my country."_

"_I highly doubt that."_

"_They'll be the ones," he said fervently. "They'll find me here too, no matter what you say. Sooner or later they will find me."_

"_It's been two years and seven months and they have yet to come, what makes you think they will now?"_

_For a moment there was pause, and then Rilian laughed triumphantly. "See! I've made you tell me!"_

_She hissed in frustration and turned away, facing the fire again. _

"_I knew I could do it," he said, more quietly. "Queen of Underland has her own opinions about everything, doesn't listen to any of her gnomes and any of her subjects,"_

_He was talking to himself again. She would ignore it now._

"_But I can make her listen," he sounded almost proud of that fact. "I am the only person in the world who can make the Queen of Underland listen and make her tell me what she wouldn't tell anyone else."_

_She still didn't respond. _

"_And you're wrong."_

"_Are you talking to me now?" she raised an eyebrow._

"_Of course I am! And I say that you're wrong. It may have been that long, it may have been more than two years, but they won't leave me here. They won't forget me. They're nothing like your people…I know at least mine will come for me."_

_A moment later, Rilian received a stinging slap to his face, so forceful that his head hit the back of the chair. _

"_Don't…you…_ever…_say that again!" she hissed, her face suddenly inches from his, her voice low and dangerous. "You have no right to say that to me, do you hear? How dare you even _think _of that! How dare you!" her voice rose to a shriek almost immediately, and she turned away, standing straight. "You know nothing, and have no right to act as if you know. You don't know anything about my people and surmise to think that…that…that they would do something like that! That they would abandon anyone like that! No, not them, they wouldn't! If anything, they were ten…a hundred times more decent than anyone in your Narnia ever was! Your land speaks of perfection yet you make up lies the moment something happens that goes outside of what you believe and refuse to acknowledge the truth. My people would never do that. How dare you suggest that they would forget!"_

_She was screaming now, and the guards outside were frightened. Sara was not one to yell…she was of the frightening calm anger, the sort where she would shake her head at you and tell you that it was terribly disappointing, and then you knew that you would soon be dead. But she never shouted._

"_Do you think I want to be here?" she whirled around, putting her hands on her hips. "Do you think I wanted to stay any longer than I had to, here in this accursed prison? Oh yes, Narnia is beautiful, but that does not change the fact of what it is! Your most brilliant sunlit moors and clear water, your clean air...your empty air is as effective as the cold bars in the prisons of my world. Do you think I've wanted to be trapped here? Never! Oh, as soon as you turned away and closed your door to me, I wanted nothing more than to return back home and never see this horrible place again. As soon as Nirisath's house was set on fire, I was determined to find a way back, however impossible it would be. How dare you accuse me…" she was pacing back and forth, her hands shaking. "And how dare you accuse them of forgetting, of not coming back for me. They had insufficient technology! The timing was different, that made everything harder! And when…when…I spoke with them, you know. My people. Several years ago…through a feat nearly impossible…this dear salamander, his name was Emandrel, he found a way to let me speak with them. And I saw the magistrate, though so many years had passed that she bore no resemblance to any magistrate I might have known. She was going to bring me back that day, did you know that? Even thought it had been a hundred years, no, more than that…she was still willing to bring me back._

"_Hylaea, you know, my old friend…she graduated and became Grand Magistrate, one of the most important people in my world. She spent her whole life working on that project of breaching other worlds, of leaving the confines of Tahalset and walking freely among the rest of the worlds. She still had a picture of us…an old picture from when we were only first years…and she kept that, and she kept trying to look for me, and passed the picture on to the next magistrate when she died in order to continue the search. They didn't even know…that later magistrate hardly had any interest in some girl who vanished into a world however many years ago that it was. But she kept the search on anyway, because it was Hylaea's wish, because that is what my people do! Don't you ever…accuse them…of forgetting…"_

_Her voice died down, and she sat back in her chair, facing the fire with her shaking hands in her lap. Her voice was quieter now, but still just a furious, still just as laced with venom as it was when she was shouting. She hated shouting and never did it for long._

"_And when I finally…spoke with the current magistrate…she said she was going to bring me home. I heard her voice, I saw the library…Mayharran! There was a sight I thought I would never see again. There was my home. And then…do you know what she said? 'This is a closed world,' that's what. She looked at me with deepest regret when she said that. 'Whatever guards that world has made it so that nothing may enter or leave without their special permission. I cannot get into this world unless that guardian allowed it, and…I'm afraid we can't bring you out unless that guardian decided to send you home.' That's what she said. That's your Aslan, isn't it? See how he protects his people, his world? By turning it into a prison, the most beautiful and well-guarded prison, so that nothing that enters can leave unless he wishes it. This is the Aslan you all adore and worship? The prison guard," she spat these last words as if the name of Aslan was the vilest thing ever spoken. "Remember that when you wonder who trapped you here. It was not I. I don't want to be here any more than you do. But he left us no choice, did he? We are both trapped, my dear, forever in this Underland." She laughed, and it echoed eerily off the walls. "But it won't be like this forever. If Aslan won't let me go home...very well! I shall take his world, then, and I will reshape it the way I want, the way I see it. I will take your Narnia and remake it, for I have the power of doing that now. Such a shame. Aslan could have prevented all of this by letting me home years ago, but he chose not to. So it is only right that I may do what I wish with his country. It will be my country now. I will show him what it is like to wake up one morning and forget the color of your mother's hair. At least…I heard what happened to your mother. Consider it a small mercy that at least you were at her side when she died."_

_And then without another word, she left the room and slammed the door, leaving behind only the silence of the crackling fire and the faint smell of rosemary._

* * *

It was mostly silence now. Rilian didn't like the silence but came to accept it after a few weeks. At least it was in a way more honest than the conversation had been previously. That was…oh, he didn't know what that was. It was too difficult to try and figure any of it out now. Nothing made sense here.

She didn't say anything else about Narnia. He had asked once, but she just shrugged and went back to reading, or drawing, or whatever sort of twisted project she was coming up with. The room was warmer now and the colors warmer and that only blurred of the lines between this world and the previous, but often he was tired of trying to make a distinction at all.

Still. He couldn't allow himself to forget Narnia. It was terribly tempting, but it was a temptation he wouldn't allow himself to give in to.

He was able to name all the stars. What else did he remember? The garden outside of Cair with the lime trees. There were plenty of lime trees, and the garden was different enough in the morning and the night for it to be described for an extended period of time.

He focused his mind on the garden, and described it, out loud in every single minute detail he could remember, from the trees to the grass to the way limes would fall on your head when you walked by. It wasn't fun being knocked on the head with limes, but it _was _fun to hide in the bushes and throw them at people. Not that he ever did that. Princes were too dignified to throw limes at people, except when they were eight years old and an equally young Otter was visiting and no one ever found out about it.

Oh! And there was father's old boat that he still kept in the harbor. The _Dawn Treader _was legendary, and while he had never sailed in it…it wasn't allowed to be sailed now, since it had touched the end of the world and came back again…but he had walked on it numerous times, and he remembered that, too. He could describe that well enough, too…

Just as well as the forest outside the city, which were mostly evergreen trees and stayed green and living all year round. But there were just as many regular trees, maple, oak, willow, birch, which all lost their leaves in the fall and going into the woods during that time, you would be surrounded by trees both living and dying, smelling the fresh scent of pine while at the same time treading a ground covered in crunchy dead leaves. The willows were always the last to go, hanging their branches over the river and finally dropping their leaves into the water and clogging it up with dead leaves that washed up on the riverbanks and eventually dissolved to join the mud and silt or were used by various Beasts for their homes.

It passed the time. It passed the days, and it brought everything into a brilliant clarity that he was able to hold in his mind for a long period of time and remember. It was one thing to imagine, another thing to remember.

Then one day she didn't come, and the chair by the fire was left empty, though the book still rested on the table in front of it.

He didn't even notice at first that she wasn't there. He had barely bothered to pay attention the past few weeks, as he considered it hardly worth his attention. She was a witch, just like any other, and whether or not she was there should not matter to him. It would only give her more power over him, which he knew she wanted.

She wasn't there the next, either.

This wouldn't have been a problem, except…except….except what if something happened? Not that it mattered, for he didn't care what the fate of a witch was. But what if something happened to her? What would be his fate? What if no one came and the witch died, then he would sit here forever until he died in this underground and never saw the light through the lime trees again? The earthmen were hopelessly obedient to her and wouldn't do anything without her permission first. They wouldn't listen to him. They proved that once…at least he was sure they did…when he spoke with them once, years ago. She had to come back. Else he'd be alone here forever. Else he would die here forever.

She did return then, three days later. He asked her where she had been, and her only reply was that she had to see Harfang, it was urgent, and a blizzard had snowed them in and she had to help clear the snow. He relaxed, for she wasn't dead and therefore he wouldn't be either, and at least it helped him remember snow.

Snow didn't come often in Cair Paravel. It was too warm there, but sometimes during the rare winter, the temperature would fall low enough to make the snow fall. It was beautiful when Cair was covered in snow and the Great River was frozen with ice and people would use it for skating…

* * *

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Sara twisted the key in the door so hard that it slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor. Stupid! She had to make sure the damnable knight was gone by tomorrow afternoon, whether she sent him home, or killed him and threw him in the sea if she had to.

She had underestimated the people of Narnia. They were determined. Mullugutherum had been just as surprised as she had that morning when two of the guards placed in the cavern of the sleepers had brought down a slightly confused knight, an older man with graying hair and steely blue eyes who was completely bewildered to find anything down here. It was an accident, he told her. I didn't know there was anything in the ruins of Harfang, so if I rudely intruded upon your kingdom, you have my humblest apologies.

Apparently, this hopeless chivalry and apologizing was something specific to all the knights of Narnia.

Then he proceeded to ask her if she had seen or heard anything of the lost prince, the poor king's son who disappeared almost four years ago. Had it already been three years? Almost four? Yes, it had. And no, she had not seen anything, but if she had she would certainly tell someone, would you care to spend the evening and at least join me for dinner since your journey no doubt was not the easiest thing you could have undertaken?

Of course he would stay for dinner. And of course she had to be agonizingly polite the entire time, charming even, sitting there while they were served the best she had here. He had been a fairly decent guest, no different than anyone else in Narnia would have been. He was also thoroughly impressed with all the food she had here, figuring that anyone living underground wouldn't have access to such vast resources. She didn't mention Harfang, where most of it was grown or harvested, or the numerous places that she traded with in order to have such food down here. He asked far too many questions about her kingdom, and she had to cover it up the best she could as well. Inheritance, she had said. Mullugutherum was some sort of relative…what had she said? A grand-uncle on her mother's side, and when her mother died, the kingdom had gone to her.

He was sleeping now. He would sleep deeply until morning, and then would fall into an even deeper sleep as the poison she laced the wine with took effect, and then by afternoon would never wake up again.

She wouldn't make this mistake again. Really, those whole experience was a learning experience. She knew a lot of what _not _to do now, and that was every bit as important as what she should do. She would post most guards there, and if anyone else found their way down, they would be taken to her as prisoners instead of guests. Guests left too much room for them to feel comfortable and act as if they could wander the place freely because they were invited. Prisoners left no room for anything except staying where they should.

She burned the body the next day and scattered the ashes in the ocean. No trace or sign that anyone had been here was left behind. The knight had seen her for a moment in her starform and panicked, but she had calmed him down later by telling him that she was keeping a man in her castle that fell under an unfortunate affliction that during a certain time of day would transform into a snake and attack anyone who came near, and that she was taking many steps to ending this work of dark magic. She then had to tell Rilian much later that he was to tell this to anyone else who came here. He believed it, and she was relieved, for during the rest of the time he had been far too inquisitive of late of what really happened during that hour. Now she managed to allay his fear, as it was obvious by the way he dropped to his knees and kissed her hand and thanked her a thousand times over for the fact that she was working to end this, that he believed her. And it solved her problems of what to do if anyone else came down here accidentally in search of Rilian. She felt momentarily guilty for lying to him, but by this point lying to him was almost as natural as loving him.

She hadn't spoken to Rilian during his hour for quite some time now, and felt no need to bring up this particular incident to him, even though on that day he was choosing to describe in the most minute of details his friend Drinian from home. She remembered Drinian, unfortunately.

She felt no need to tell him that there were still people looking, though she knew it would allay his fears. She could keep it hidden that they still remembered, and that perhaps he was right, that her people had long given up while even in the face of sheer impossibility, those of Narnia had not ceased their journey.

It made her deeply furious that they had come here, and this endless describing of Rilian's was getting to her as well. It was irritating, and at the same time it was something she wished she had thought of doing years ago. It was too late for that now, of course. She forgot more each day and it was almost hopeless trying to recreate it. There were miniature palm trees all through her room but she couldn't get them to grow to a decent size and was having difficulty remembering how. There was a sketch of a lemur, but it had a great swath of graphite across it and she couldn't remember how it looked before that. Even the specificities of her native language were fading, and it took a great effort to dredge up the remnants of a one-time thick Mayharran accent that she used to speak easily with.

It was with great reluctance that she admitted that she was forgetting, and this time there was nothing that would help her remember again.

So be it.

It was almost a calming thought when she finally accepted this fact. Unlike these Narnians, her people had long forgotten her and wouldn't make any effort to bring her back home. She would just let herself forget, and there would never again be the stress of trying to cling to the vestiges of a world she hadn't seen in more than twenty years.

She looked at Rilian one night when he was avidly describing flamingoes. He remembered flamingoes and she didn't, and she didn't like that fact. She had not brought him here to remember things while she forgot. She had not brought him here so that they would be different people, so that they would be completely entirely separate so that one day he could escape and live again in Narnia without her. No. He belonged to her, absolutely everything, and it would be foolish of her to leave even the smallest loophole where he could exist independently of her.

If she forgot Mayharran, then too she would let him forget Narnia. It was a fair exchange, an eye for an eye. They were meant to share everything, then too, she thought, would they share the suffering that happens when you wake up one morning and realize that you've forgotten the color of your mother's eyes.


	28. Chapter 28

((sorry for...well, forgetting to update. Battling a recently developed panic disorder, not fun. Anyway, much love for everyone who reads this story! Enjoy this chapter because it hates me and our constant battle seems never ending. But then just think, once you finish this chapter, you'll never have to read it again!))

Sara chuckled. "I don't know what you're talking about with all this green fields nonsense," she said. "There aren't any green fields here."

"There were back in Narnia," he replied stubbornly.

"I've told you before, there is no Narnia. Therefore there were no green fields, either. A pretty imagining though, it is, I agree. I wish there were green fields down here, but alas, I have not yet found out how to grow them."

"You wouldn't have to grow them if you just went to Narnia. They have plenty of them there."

"I'm sure they do. Imaginary countries have everything you could possibly imagine."

"I'm not imagining! For Aslan's sake, you've _lived _there. How can you so easily deny its existence?"

"Because," she replied, stretching languorously in her chair. "Look around you. This place is dark and cold, and it has always been dark and cold. This place does not have any green plants growing here naturally, only what I have created and grown. The people here…ask any one of them, even Mullugutherum…and they will tell you that they have never seen any place called Narnia, or any green fields. I myself have never seen a green field or sat in the middle of it when the sun was overhead in the summer, as you have said. Therefore logically, there are no green fields, and logically, if there were green fields in Narnia and there were no green fields, then there is no Narnia as well."

"But," he countered. "If I've never seen green fields, than how could I imagine them? I've never been the most creative person, I'm sorry to say. I wouldn't be able to come up with something as vivid as sitting in the middle of a green field in the summer when the sun was out and the sky was blue with only a few clouds. I'm not that creative."

"Creativity really doesn't matter. When one dreams, all sorts of preposterous, fantastic things take root in one's mind. Why, just the other night, I had a dream that involved three alligators and a swimming pool. During the day I am far too busy to give into such flights of fancy, but when I dream, such strange things come into my mind."

"If you've never seen an alligator or a swimming pool, how do you know that you've dreamt about them?"

She hesitated. "Those were just…just the names that I gave to those things,"

But he already knew he had won this particular round. "When you said 'alligator' and 'swimming pool', I knew what you were talking about. I've seen both of those things, and if you've dreamt them, then it means you have seen them too. Two people can't both dream the same thing. And even if we both did, if I had dreamt about a stick, and you did as well, yet neither of us had ever seen a stick before…then I would perhaps call it a stick, and you would call it a boozle…and though we imagined the same things, we of course did not give them the same names. And therefore since we just did now…alligators and swimming pools…if such a thing didn't exist and we both had never seen it before, we wouldn't have made up the same names and known what the other was talking about. And therefore there are alligators and swimming pools, and therefore there are also green fields, Narnia, summer, and the sky."

Sara pursed her lips. "Very well," she replied.

And so he ignored her then and proceeded to describe the green fields under the summer sky.

* * *

"There are no such things as thunderstorms," Sara said absently several days later. "There is no sky, and therefore there are no thunderstorms that can gather in the sky."

"There are," Rilian insisted. "Anything can gather in the sky, because it is an area that vast and open that there can be clouds, rain, stars, sun…anything, really. Well, almost anything."

"Have you ever seen these clouds, then? That rain, that stars and sun? I don't believe I have."

"Yes, you have. Don't be foolish. You've told me about Harfang, and that is a castle that lives under the sky. When you were there, you obviously would have seen the sky."

"Look outside. There is a vast ceiling over all Underland, but it is hardly a sky. You call it a sky because you see the ceiling of Underland, only it is very dull and not at all interesting, so you embellish it by adding all sorts of fantastical elements to it, like sun, and stars, to make it altogether something less dull than it really is."

"No, the real sky wasn't anything like the Underland ceiling. It was vast and blue and the air was open and fresh, and it was free there…not…like here."

"An even prettier fancy, I must agree," she nodded almost patronizingly. "I can only imagine that after all your time here, my prince, you would want to live in a place free and open. I should like to live there too…I've spent more time in the Underland than you, and can imagine the beauty of something like that."

"I'm not _imagining _it! You _know _I'm not! Why do you keep insisting on this?"

"My dear, I am only worried about you," she said. "You keep saying all these strange fancies, and I'm worried that eventually you will believe in them entirely and forget things the way they really are. You know there is no other world but this one, no other world but that which I create. I have not created yet the sun, the sky, the moon. When I do, though, I will create it exactly as you say."

"Damn you, Sara, it _already _exists! You don't have to _do _anything!"

"You say there is a sky with thunderstorms, but you do not give me a reason for the existence of a true sky." She replied, unfazed by his frustration. "However it is perfectly logical that living underground, you would wish to imagine a place that is free and open. And seeing the dull Underland ceiling, you would wish to make it far more beautiful than it really is. This doesn't prove the existence of anything."

"What, you think I could come up with something like this?"

"But of course. Anyone would. You should hear the things that Mullugutherum has dreamed up about Overworld. He has never seen it either, like you, and therefore comes up with imaginative things as well. Why, the other day he told me that he was sure that mountains would rise up out of the sea at a moment's notice and reach towards the sky, but if they got too high then flying monsters would cut them down to the right size again. Quaint, isn't it?"

"It's preposterous, but your Mullugutherum really never has seen Overworld, so he can think up fancies like that and it's fine. I have, I've lived there my entire life…"

"But can't give me a single reason how it could exist,"

"The thunderstorms during the summer are…"

"Yes? Tell me what they are,"

"During the summer when it grows too hot. The clouds gather in the sky, dark grey, they cover the sun…flashes of lightning, which I've heard is electricity in the sky that creates these charges…"

"Electricity in the sky? What an absurd idea! But how delightful!"

He ignored her. "The thunder usually follows the lightning…it rumbles across the sky and shakes the buildings if you're on a high tower…and the rain usually follows that."

She laughed again. "Simplest explanation of all, my dear. Your thunder…the Underland isn't always as stable as I would have liked, though I am working to fix that every day. Often, there are collapses and instabilities, and it causes rock to fall. Several times, it fell on this part of the castle…quite loud and quite disrupting. There's your thunder."

For a moment he couldn't come up with a rebuttal. "But…what of the lightning, that…"

"Electricity in the sky?" she raised an eyebrow. "Think about _that_ and then tell me that it's something that really happens."

"It…it is…"

"I will make that for you if you want, when this is all finished."

"You don't have to make it! Lion's mane, it already _exists!"_

"Don't be thinking that now," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "Don't be caught up in believing all these things that aren't real. You'll only disappoint yourself when you realize that they aren't."

"Oh, for…but they _are _real…"

"Look, now, you're all worked up," she said with a sigh. "And all for nothing. My poor dear. I only hope that my plan will soon be completed and then we can forget all this nonsense, yes? Here, don't worry yourself pondering over things that don't exist anymore. Let me play for you."

"Sara…"

"I've told you, you must address me as 'your majesty' as long as we are here." Security purposes, she thought as she picked up her mandolin. She couldn't have him say her name aloud anymore, lest anyone else find their way down here.

"That's complete nonsense. You're no queen, you're a witch…a lying witch, now, that's what you are, and I will continue to address you as such."

"I tell the truth," she said, resting the mandolin on her lap. "I'm afraid you just haven't learned to recognize my words yet as the truth. Fear not, eventually you will. And when you do, my dear, life will be much easier for you. Now stop worrying and let me play." She plucked a soft chord, then another, tuning the mandolin. She really did like this instrument, even though she wasn't worthy of it. She was still only a mediocre mandolin player, and had traded for this instrument from someone who was a genuine expert. Such a shame to part a player like that of such a fine instrument, but she wanted only excellence in her kingdom. She played a song, a small and soft one that she could have sworn she heard somewhere before but she couldn't remember where.

"You win," Rilian said softly, but she didn't hear him.

* * *

She didn't always win, Rilian thought. It was only sometimes. It was about even, he thought dryly, keeping score as if it was some sort of game. Who can be more convincing. Could he make her believe that what he was talking about was real? Often he could, and she would have no response. But she did that too, finding cold, dead logic that put even his most brilliant descriptions to shame. But sometimes she listened. It wasn't often, but he could tell by the subtle changes in her posture, the look in her eyes, the way she sat, that she really was listening, and wasn't waiting to give a rebuttal to his description. She was just listening.

He was, perhaps, the only person in the world that could make the Queen of Underland listen.

It was a small victory when he could, though it was rare. It was even more difficult, maybe, when he did. It showed for the briefest of seconds that there must be _something _human left in her, some vestige of the girl he knew years ago. But often it was only a flash, then would disappear in mocking laughter and a soft chord on the mandolin. It wasn't enough to last, and he was still being held captive by a witch.

He still didn't know how much time had passed, and she refused to tell him. It was the one thing he could never convince her to say. He had tried several times to fool her into telling, but it failed every time. She was too clever and always managed to avoid the answer somehow, even if sometimes…he could tell when he nearly was told, because usually she would just shake her head and play something on her mandolin and pretend not to hear him anymore. That's when he knew he was close.

Still. If he couldn't find a way out of here and she ended up actually taking over the world as she planned, it couldn't be…would it be so terrible? She did listen, after all. He knew how to rule a country. He had been raised that way. If she listened…he could tell her, and maybe it was possible she could make a decent ruler. Would it be so dreadful to…

Yes. _Yes. _Of course it would. He couldn't let her rule Narnia. He couldn't let her enact her plan and take her gnomes and attack Narnia, killing its people until they finally submitted to her. He couldn't let her take Cair Paravel and do all that she planned. It wouldn't matter if he said otherwise, she would still take over Narnia her way regardless of anything he tried to tell her.

But those moments of clarity weren't coming as frequently as they originally had. There were times he was sure beyond all sense of a doubt that Narnia did exist and he would find his way home eventually and escape this mad witch bent on the destruction of his land. But it was harder to hold on to these moments, and so much easier just to agree with what she said and let her convince him otherwise.

Still. He had to try and fight it. It was the only way.

* * *

"And that, of course, is why rivers cannot exist. The sea is the only body of water here and therefore you can create the idea of other such bodies of water existing." She said lightly.

"You had a teacher named Nirisath once who lived by a river."

"A lovely name for a lovely person who lives near this imaginary river, I suppose." She faltered ever so slightly when he mentioned Nirisath, but easily regained her footing.

"Yes, it was your teacher's name."

She is the only one I will spare when I take Narnia, Sara thought absently. Her, I have not forgotten her.

"I have had many teachers in the past, and forgotten most of their names. But I am sure if this Nirisath was as important as you insist, I would have remembered her. But I do not."

She didn't feel like debating tonight. It had been a long and tiring day, and she was tempted not to come at all tonight, but it had gotten to be such a habit that she was here before she even realized that she had come. For a moment she disliked that, for habits were something difficult to control, and she had become so used to having absolutely everything and everyone in her life under control. But she dismissed it with a shrug, telling herself that she could stop coming any time if she wanted. Habits could be broken. It was only wise, clinically, to come here. She had no intention of losing him to the marks of insanity.

He was still for the most part convinced of Narnia's existence. She didn't like that either. That too was beyond her control, though often she won in their frequent battles of logic against memory and belief. What she disliked was the fact that she didn't win every battle, and there were times where he would finish triumphantly, almost throwing the words at her feet that proved the existence of something important in his world, and smiling…sometimes even laughing…when she had no response for that. Gods, how she hated it when he laughed. How she loved it.

How he still held firm to every damnable belief he was raised with. He never forgot the wind across the plains even though he hadn't been there in more than four years.

She couldn't compete on those days. She couldn't compete with the ghost of a land that he hadn't seen in more than five years and would still fight and die for.

Today she just felt like playing. She really wanted to earlier today, but didn't feel like coming in here to get her mandolin. Now it was here and convenient, so she could play her song.

She was so intent on playing that she didn't notice much of what went on around her. That was habit too…there wasn't anything to notice, really. And here…it was enjoyable to watch the fire in the fireplace flicker and dance along with her music. Being around enchantment as often as it did, some days it felt like it was ingrained into her very skin, her fingers, and through that into the mandolin as well. If she played certain chords, certain melodies, the fire sometimes responded to it. A curious phenomenon. She stared at the fire, and played, and then nodded with satisfaction when her music produced the desired results.

She was so intent on finding the true magical correlation that she was oblivious to anything else in the room, not listening to any other sound, not really noticing anything else, not until she felt something cold and sharp pressed to the back of her neck…

"Don't move," Rilian said, his voice low and dangerous. "No…put the instrument down. Don't do anything else."

Sara froze. "What…"

"I didn't say to speak. I said put the mandolin down."

Slowly, she set the instrument down on the desk in front of her.

"Good. Now, put out the fire."

She made no move to do so.

"I said, put out the fire. What, now you won't listen to me?"

Sara turned around the best she could with the sword point pressed to her neck. Rilian was holding the sword that she had put on the table, pressing it as lightly as he could to her neck but with obvious intent that he could do more if he chose. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead from the exertion, and in his eyes there was…clarity, and a fierce pride and determination. Her eyes briefly went to the chair…where there was nothing. One of the arm ropes had been frayed…frayed enough to be loosened by movement and slipped out of, and from there she could see how easily he could have gotten the other bonds undone.

"I'll kill whoever let such a thing go unnoticed…" she said, half to herself.

"I don't think so," Rilian replied almost instantly. "I don't think you'll be killing anyone else now, will you? Now put out the fire."

"That's impossible."

"Impossible?" He laughed. "I told you, nothing is impossible. You once told me how furious you were at all the promises I broke…well, I've kept this promise to you, haven't I? I promised you that one day I would find a way out of here, that you wouldn't keep me here forever, and I've kept _that _promise. Now put out the fire."

She could think of nothing else to do but obey. She stood up and reached for her powder, throwing a pinch into the flame and whispering one word that made the flames go out entirely. She had dreamed of this a thousand times before, but never imagined it actually to come to pass. She had taken too many steps against that! This couldn't happen!

"Good. Now, I don't know how to get to the surface from here. I don't know all the tunnels here, so I want you to find two of your best gnomes, the ones that know the way, and bring them in here. I will be leaving as soon as possible."

She didn't move. "Or what?"

"Or…"

"Are you going to kill me, Rilian?" she asked, lightly resting a hand on the sword, even though she knew he was most likely capable of doing so. In her dreams he usually did, but those dream deaths didn't involve being killed with a sword…it usually involved him tying her here and leaving her to die while her kingdom collapsed around her.

"Why shouldn't I? You've hardly given me a reason not to."

She took a deep breath to calm down. No, just because this was happening, it didn't mean that she couldn't still handle it. He was holding a sword, and that meant that he wasn't going to tie here to her own chair and set the room on fire, lock the door, and then leave. That happened sometimes in the dreams as well.

"You…you wouldn't possibly do such a thing." She said, forcing out a chuckle. "You have more honor than to kill a woman."

"I wouldn't be killing a woman," he said flatly. "I'd be saving Narnia from a witch. Now, call the guards."

There didn't seem to be any other option. "Guards!" She called. "Guards, where are my guards?"

No one answered. Why not? There were always guards here. "Here, I don't think they are there at the moment. Let me get them."

"No. You stay here. _I'll _find them. If you do it I'm sure you'll come back with a force of hundreds to keep me from leaving."

"And what if I leave now?"

"You won't. I'm locking the door." He sheathed the sword and opened the door. The guards blinked in shock but didn't move from their positions. "Tell them to stand aside."

She said nothing.

"_Tell them."_

"Stand aside," she said. The guards obeyed.

"What times is it?"

"It is nearly…nearly eight."

"Good. Then they won't question me if I am around at this time." He turned the lock in the door.

"Don't!"

"Too late. I suppose I can turn anything into a prison as well." And then he closed the door, locked from the outside so she couldn't open it.

Sara ran to the door and grasped the handle, rattling it frantically, shaking it, turning it around until her fingers slipped off. It couldn't lock! Not in _her _castle, no one could make her a prisoner in a world of her creating!

The door was locked. She could break it open by magic. No, no she couldn't, she had proofed the door against that. How _stupid! _No, it wasn't stupid, it was smart. She was guarding against something like this happening! Except how could it happen when she did everything she could to prevent it? It shouldn't have happened! There was no reason for it, not when she was here…she should have noticed, heard something, instead of being so focused on the damn _fire _that she shut out everything around her! But she had done it so many times before that it shouldn't _matter. _But as always it was the one time that it happened that did matter…

What could she do? Come on, idiot, think of something.

This was her kingdom, for gods' sake! She could make anything in it happen the way she wanted to. She wouldn't let Rilian escape. He tried before and she stopped that. She could stop it _now. _

The door opened, and she turned back around.

"They've all refused such an escort without you present," Rilian said, and his voice had not changed. It was still clipped, tight, emotionless. "You surely have maps of this Underland and maps to the surface, but I have not been able to find any. I am assuming that you have them somewhere I can't find, and right now you will take me to those maps."

"No,"

"What?" he drew his sword again. "No, you have no right to deny me anything right now, witch. I kept my promise. I told you that I wouldn't stay here forever, and I'm standing by that. Tell me where the maps are and I will get them myself."

"And if I don't? Then what will you do?"

"Then I will kill you."

"You won't. I know you won't."

"Give me one…reason…why I shouldn't!" He shouted, raising the sword and pointing it at her again.

"Because if you kill me," she raised her chin defiantly. "Then this entire kingdom will collapse and bury you alive, along with the hundreds of thousands of gnomes as well."

For a moment he didn't say anything. "Excuse me?"

"I told you I built this kingdom myself. I told you I created it out of the dust and rock into everything I have made here. Yes, of course the gnomes helped. But I did not sit back and let them do it all themselves. There are always too many things that could go wrong, and I told you before that I have safeguarded against all of that. I put too much of my magic and power into this kingdom. If I die, then it dies as well."

He lowered the sword then, very slowly, watching her carefully to see if she was lying.

"You're really not lying. You did make it like that, didn't you."

"I was not _stupid _when I was creating this."

"No….no you weren't…" he lowered the sword and for a second just stared at the hilt in his hands. "That's just like you though, isn't it. Just like a witch to do something like that…have it so that even if you die, so will the people who killed you, buried, dead, forgotten in a kingdom that could so easily become a _tomb. _Ah, how intelligent! How brilliant!" He laughed. "How brilliant that I can't even threaten you with _death _in order to get you to find me a way out of here! Of course you'd rather die and see me die here too, myself and the countless gnomes, knowing that now everyone in Narnia won't ever find me. Wouldn't that just be ironic now, right? Just as the people in your world never found you, did they!"

"They never bothered to keep looking!" she spat, standing up straight.

"No, why would they want to look for a witch anyway? Better off leaving her here to do her own twisted works far away from them where their people won't be endangered."

"Be quiet!"

"I'm afraid you can't order me around anymore now, Sara."

"I said…"

"Don't call you by your name? Too dangerous, is it? Afraid someone would hear?"

"I am…"

"No one's going to hear. We're alone here, Sara." He swept the sword in a wide arc, indicating the entire castle. "You made it that way, didn't you? Made it so that no one can ever find here and no one can ever leave here without your consent, and even if you die no one can leave."

"Yes." she replied. "Yes I did. I told you I prepared for everything…"

"Except this. I kept my promise, and I'm leaving today. I'm sure you have maps here somewhere and I'll tear the cursed place apart until I find them, every one of them. During this time of the day the gnomes won't look twice at me if I take one of the boats to the other side of the sea. Unless you already have figured out some other twisted way to keep me here…become worse of a jailer than you already are."

"I told you, I'm not telling you where I keep the maps!"

"I'll find them _anyway!" _He shouted, frustrated, and swung the sword in a wide arc until it connected with the mandolin on the table. The sharpened blade cut through the finely polished wood of the instrument, snapping the strings and cutting into the neck, finally cleaving the table neatly in half.

"No! My mandolin!" Sara ran to the ruined table and dropped in front of it, picking up the destroyed instrument and running her hand around the now separate pieces, splinters from the wood breaking off in her hands and littering the expensive carpet. "This was the best instrument I've ever had. How dare you destroy it!"

"What is one instrument to you?" he replied mockingly. "What is anything to you, really? Killing the gnomes without a second thought, willing to destroy my entire world and everyone in it just for your own selfish purposes and yet you care when something happens to your mandolin?"

She dropped the fingerboard of the broke instrument, the strings twanging in discord as it bumped against the broken table. "I don't intend on killing everyone, only those who stand in my way. If it can be avoided, I'm sure I can find a way."

"Then why won't you let me leave here?"

"I…"

"Never mind. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

The door opened again. "The maps," said the gnome. She held out her hand and took them, looking through the papers. They were the right ones, and just as accurate as they had always been.

"Give them to me," Rilian ordered.

She did. "Now what are you going to do with them?" she asked, standing up and nudging the mandolin pieces aside with her foot. Well, the next time she was at Harfang she could get another one. She looked back at Rilian. There were certain battles, she understood, that could be fought without weapons and magic. She knew Rilian, and knew the slight bit of doubt and insecurity that lingered in the back of his mind. She knew because of how much time she spent studying those insecurities, and right now, he could use reminding of them.

It would keep him here just as well as her power did.

He didn't say anything but continued to look over the maps.

"Use them to get home, I presume?" she said.

He looked over the map back at her. "Of course."

"You can't get back using maps, you know."

"What?"

She smiled and took a step forward and his hand went to the sword again. "You can't get home using maps, my dear, though you may think otherwise. How many years has it been since you came here?"

"I don't know," he raised an eyebrow. "You never want to tell me."

"Now I will, then. Five and a half, nearly six."

"What's your point? Make it quickly, I intend to leave very soon."

She left the instrument behind and walked towards him, and this time he didn't flinch. She took one of the maps from the sheaf he was holding, tracing the lines of the Sunless Sea as it led to the numerous tunnels to the surface. "Who are you?" she asked absently.

"Rilian, son of Caspian, tenth of that name."

"And what does that mean, hmm?"

"It means…"

She flicked the maps with her fingernails. "It is just a name, my dear. As is Narnia. Do you really believe that you can return there now? I think not. Look at you, here…five years you have spent here with me. Those Narnians have not, and..." she smiled. "Go back and tell them all that took place here. Will they believe you?"

"Of course," he snapped. "They are my people."

"They are people who have never known what you have, nor will they ever. They won't understand you, not like I do, of course. And what do you have to return to? Your mother has been dead for years, and you have been gone for so long…" she lifted one hand to trace the curve of his cheek and he jerked away, taking a step back. "What would he have to live for, hmm? With all of that taken from him? He might not even be alive anymore. Do you want to go back and face that?"

He didn't say anything, but his grip on the maps relaxed slightly.

"And," she continued. "Will your father believe what you tell him? It is an absurd story, my dear, that you were kidnapped and taken far from Narnia and held prisoner underground…I doubt that even I would believe it if someone told me!" and she laughed, a strange, pleasant, musical sound that filled the room. "And what point would it be then, to return to a place where no one believed you, even though you once called it home?"

And the idea was too terrible to contemplate, the idea that the people of Narnia would shake their heads and think that their prince is mad, to be making up stories about underground kingdoms and witches…

No! It was a lie, another one of her fabrications, he wouldn't believe it!

He threw the maps down and she frowned, not looking angry, only disapproving.

"I understand you," she said, her voice low, soft, insistent. "In ways the people of Narnia could never hope to. Why would you go back there, and risk such pain? Here, there is no pain, no fear. I have destroyed pain and made fear irrelevant."

She lied, no one could do that.

"You know I can," she continued, almost as if she heard his thoughts. "Narnia is not your home anymore, my dear. You are different from them, and they will not understand you. Why go back and cause yourself such pain? Why return and see your father, only a shade of the person he was? You have had to live with death before. Here, there is no death and no grieving."

Because it is the right thing to do. Because I need to help my father through trying times. He let the maps fall to the floor and turned away, walking away from her, towards the fireplace, pacing in front of it. Because that is my home. Do I need another reason? I need to leave, I need to leave now…

He bent over to pick up the maps.

She couldn't be right.

But he didn't know the way here, and even with the maps, could he lead his people back here, to prove the existence of this kingdom? What if he couldn't? Then they would believe him mad, look with pitying eyes on their lost prince, returned from his mysterious disappearance but now lost within himself.

Would they say that? No! Of course not!

But it was an absurd story…

And what if there was no Narnia?

No, there was, there had to be, and he would find it or die trying. And if he died maybe that would be best, for in death there certainly had to be no witches, no gnomes, and if Narnia didn't exist, no discovery that it was all a dream.

"You hesitate because you know I am right." She said approvingly. "You are intelligent and know it is not worth the time and effort to try and leave." When he still didn't say anything, she spoke lower, softer. "You know after these years that you are afraid of what you will find. But here, you will never be afraid and never have to know. There is happiness in ignorance, have I taught you nothing?"

But his father, his people, the lime trees and the sun…

He never questioned any of these things before. But now that she said it…she had been to the surface, perhaps she did know better…

No, the maps did not lie! Proof of her plans meant proof of reality.

But what if they didn't believe him? What if they just thought he was mad, since he acted that way before he was taken here?

He didn't _know. _A moment ago he did.

He stood up again, and she handed him one of the maps. Her hand brushed his, and she trailed her finger up his arm, stopping at the base of his neck…and then he felt a sharp pain, then a complete numbness come over his entire body. He collapsed on the ground, maps fluttering to the floor.

"I performed an experiment, years ago…something I had to develop for these plans, you see, and I had to create this poison that could paralyze my enemies. The one I worked with eventually killed them, but I modified this kind to stun them. You'll recover, of course, in due time. But I always like to make precautions, yes? And I had to keep you sufficiently distracted until I could retrieve the extra darts from behind the fireplace." She brushed aside his hair, smiling sweetly, terribly. "But I did not lie to you when I spoke of Narnia. It will not be easy for you to return, if you ever do. But do not worry about those times, for they will never come. I will always make life easy for you, of course.

"However…" she held up a finger and her voice turned scolding, like he was a small child that had stolen an extra cookie. "I advise you not to try anything like this again. If you escape this chair another time, I promise you that I will not be so lenient." And that carried no hint of scolding but a whisper of a threat and certainty.

She stood, brushing her hands off from the dust of the floor on her skirt. "You forget that you belong to me. Do not forget it again." She reached to her necklace and brushed the two stones, and in less than a minute, a score of gnomes stood at the entrance to the room. "Take care of this," was all she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she turned and walked from the room, nodding at the gnomes outside, and then down through the passages of the castle leaving behind only dust and silence.


	29. Chapter 29

The sun rose over Ettinsmoor the next day. The sun came and went, and so did the rain, falling across the empty plain and soaking the grass and stones of the ruins. And following that was the snow, the unusually warm autumn turning into a sudden and bitter cold winter. The snow covered the entire moor, falling especially sudden in Harfang. But that wasn't unusual, for Harfang was always notorious for its spontaneous blizzards, flaring up and then disappearing just as suddenly.

Two figures could be seen among the snowstorm, faint outlines against the white that blotted out the ruined road that they rode upon. One had a lovely white horse, an unusually placid creature that even in this snowstorm did not shy and startle and run for cover. The other had a dark horse, black, that kept its head down except to occasionally snort and shake its mane in an attempt to get the snow from its eyes. They were two of the finest horses that could be found in the entire world, obtained through trade from a dark-skinned Calormene in the far south of the world. He had held out for a long time, not wanting to part with two of his best prizes. But in the end he had to, for the price that he was paid was something he could never ignore. He patted farewell to Snowflake and Coalblack and gave the two horses to the buyer, a funny, squat fellow with a really long nose and a pair of thick glasses around his eyes to protect them from the sun, and then went on his way.

"We should go back," said one of the figures, sitting on the black horse. "The snow is getting worse. It won't be long before this whole area is covered."

The first figure on the white horse shielded her eyes against the gale. "Nonsense. It will blow over in a few minutes. I know these storms far better than you."

"You must. You've lived here longer," he was quick to agree.

"I want to ride out to the border today. You may come if you wish, but if not, then you can turn back."

"No, I will come with you."

"Very well." She pulled on the reins, guiding the horse back along the ruined road that led to the borders of Ettinsmoor.

"I should thank you again," he said as he rode beside her.

"For what?"

"For letting me ride with you on your trips onto the moor. It is far too kind of you to let me ride in Overworld with you like this, even covered as I am in this armor. It is far more than I deserve."

"It is," she agreed, trotting on ahead, for she knew the way better than he did. "But it is sensible, for your eyes must be accustomed to the sunlight. It would be such a shame if, after all we have worked for, if the moment you stood in Overworld you were blinded forever from the glare of the sun in your retinas. Most unfortunate."

"Look, the snow…it is lessening."

"As I told you it would."

"And you are always right, my lady, in your infinite wisdom that far surpasses my mortal knowledge, and I am grateful each day that you have chosen me of all the people in the world to bestow such honors upon."

She nodded, and then kicked the horse into a trot. There were rumors given to her by Mullugutherum on his journey home from Calormen that there were people on Ettinsmoor that were not her giants, and she had to put an end to that. She unfortunately couldn't send him to Calormen again…this journey alone, despite the protective glasses she had devised for him, had damaged his eyesight greatly. She supposed the only reason he didn't go mad as Thanagel did was his hopeless loyalty to her. Well, she had gotten what she wanted there, and her dealings with that country overall were few and far between and she wished to keep it that way.

"Why are we riding out this way? What is it that you need to see?"

"Intruders," she answered without a moment's pause. "I have heard there are intruders on my domain. I thought I had set laws with the people of Harfang to eradicate anyone who comes here unless they are under my own safe conduct, but some have escaped their watch. I must deal with these intruders accordingly."

"Of course, Sara. This is understandable."

She pulled the horse to an abrupt halt so that the two horses nearly ran into each other. The black horse stepped back, churning up dust and pebbles in an attempt to veer out of the way.

"I believe I have told you never to call me that," she said evenly. "Unless it slipped my mind?"

"No, no, it hasn't," he answered quickly. "Forgive me, your majesty."

"That's better. And…what's this?" she brushed the hair out of her face and peered down, noting the odd marks in the path that were similar to horse hooves but different enough to be noticed. "Centaurs." She breathed. "Dear me. We have a centaur on my moor. This simply won't do."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Centaurs are terribly observant creatures. They are wise and can look into the sky and stars and see what the future may portend. This presents possible problems, and I must find this centaur before he has a chance to do that. Come, now." She pulled the horse around and set it on a different path, off the main road, following the centaur tracks left in the dust and snow. "These are recent. The centaur can't be far off."

It was an hour of riding before she finally caught up with the centaur. He had taken a moment to gaze up at the sky and was circling it, trying to find a small opening in the clouds he could better see through.

"Good afternoon, traveler," she said, holding up a hand to the centaur in greeting and trilling her r's in an over exaggerated Mayharran accent, something she had come to do with every traveler that had come into her moor. "What brings you on this snowy afternoon to this most treacherous country?"

The centaur dropped his gaze and turned around to face her. "Who are you?"

She laughed. "I could ask that same question of you, fair traveler. I too am merely making my way on these moors, and I have rarely seen any other living thing here and am curious to see who I am meeting now."

The centaur had an arrow slung around his back and a quiver of arrows at his side. "I am a knight of the king of Narnia, and I have come to the far north of the world to seek his son who was lost to us five and a half years ago."

She laughed again, a sound reminiscent of wind chimes in a breeze. "It is strange, then, that you should be seeking him in such a cold, desolate place. Why, I have ridden over much of the moors in my life, and have scarcely seen anything."

The centaur's eyes flicked for a moment to the other man, but he said nothing. "Still, I am hoping that perhaps I will be the first to find something."

"I have lived here many years and found nothing. I am afraid neither will you. Such a shame this journey is for naught, yes?"

"I have seen such strange things in the stars," the centaur said evenly. "And they portend me to come here in order to seek them out. They speak of deception things lost and hidden, and I intend to discover them."

"You hold much faith in the stars. I would advise against it. Surely someone as learned as you would know this."

"I know that what I see there has held far more truth than anything here on earth. But…your companion, has he anything to say? Perhaps he has seen something?"

She glanced sideways, then smiled again at the centaur. "He doesn't," she said.

"Why not? If I may ask…"

"No, you may not." This, however, she said a bit sharper than she intended, and the centaur noticed this as well.

"The stars…"

"What did the stars say?" she leaned forward in her horse. "What did they speak of other than deception? What did one as wise as you see written there?"

"I saw terrible things that spoke of a witch and far too many years passed."

She laughed again, but this time the chimes were gone from that laugh. "How wise," she said. "How intelligent. How much of a shame to lose you as well as the countless others who have come to my moor in search of the lost prince."

"I beg your pardon?"

She lifted a small handful of powder, a dark purple, in her hand. It glimmered unnaturally in the snowy air. The centaur stared and took a step back.

"What is that? Who are you?"

She smiled. "I was asked that question recently," she said, somewhat thoughtfully. "By someone who I know far better than you. You should be privileged to be the first to receive an answer to that question." And in a small whisper of air, she blew the powder in the centaur's face. There was only a brief moment then in which the centaur's hands flew to its throat, and then he staggered backwards and collapsed onto the moor, dead. She smiled again.

"They call me the Lady of the Green Kirtle," she said, leaning over her horse to look at the centaur's body. "And this is what the world shall know me as hereafter."

* * *

"Have you ever seen a tree?"

"No…"

"But I am sure you have seen what passes for trees in the cavern of the sleepers, yes? I have not been to that cavern in a long time, but surely the Warden has taken you there before."

"Yes, but…"

"And you see those things growing from the ground, whatever they are, with limp leaves and branches brushing the ground. And they are hardly anything to look at, to sit under, to linger by. And so you replaced them with what you call trees, lovely things with green leaves to sit under on a warm day. It is easy to understand why. There are no trees."

"There…"

"There are no trees,"

"There are no trees," he mumbled. "There were never any trees."

"Good." She nodded approvingly. He knew what to say by now. The words she recited over and over had taken root in his mind so that now it was nearly automatic, even if he didn't believe what he was saying. Soon he would. Soon the mindless repetition would convince him that what she said was the truth. It would take time. But she had time.

"There was never any world but mine,"

He said nothing. She didn't expect him to say anything. He still resisted that. He still insisted. Ah, well. It was easier this way.

The tunnel was going well. It was six years now, but she had a year ago found a good part of the rock to tunnel through and now a steady tunnel was being created to the surface. She didn't have to worry about that now, especially since she had given at least half of the gnomes working on the tunnel the slightest bit of leniency in her enchantment of them to allow them to think about what to do in case they came in contact with a fault.

She had taken Virk, who she originally situated at the beginning of a tunnel, and out him with plenty of other gnomes past the cavern of the sleepers into the biggest cavern, the one that people most often came through the few times they did…now it had been three people, two of them knights and a third a very determined Leopard…and set them all to guard that entrance. The Marches of Underland, she called it, and ordered Virk as Warden to guard them and if anyone comes through, to immediately bring them to her. It was of utmost importance and if they did not come to her, she would be highly displeased and they did not want to see that. Of course they agreed, and now she didn't have to worry about that, either.

Quickly, she was disposing of all the things that she had previously worried about. Those two were easiest. She then set several notably observant giants in numerous places in Ettinsmoor to keep watch for her. They obeyed, as the giants in Harfang always did, and that too was crossed from her list.

Rilian believed in Narnia far too much, and in all of their previous debates, she had almost encouraged it. There were too many times where he won the debates and she could think of nothing to do to counter it. There were too many times where she couldn't justify the nonexistence of Narnia, and as a result, those few times made him even more sure that it still existed somewhere and that he would still find it. That complicated things, and she was through with complications.

If she allowed him to believe, then she would fail. The very thought disgusted her. She couldn't let that happen. She had to eliminate all possible risks that could allow such a thing to recur. She had to make it so absolutely nothing got in the way of the final plan, which was…she reminded herself of this repeatedly…the conquering of Narnia, the taking of Cair Paravel, the murder of the king, the instating of herself and Rilian as rulers of Narnia, their subsequent marriage, and then the entire world and him as well belonging to her. Nothing could get in the way of that anymore. _Nothing. _

She had to have Rilian forget Narnia. Otherwise it was one more power he had over her, which was unacceptable. While he still refused to acknowledge her world as the only one, she had convinced him to deny many of the other things he had stood staunchly by, a faint look of resignation coming over his features as he obediently repeated that whatever thing it was had never existed. He did it more and more and almost every debate they had ended in her success.

It was one less thing to worry about.

Did she love him? Yes, of course she did, and always had. But she couldn't worry about that now, because that too was becoming a weakness and keeping her from her true task. She would love him again after the plan was completed and she was successful. But she could wait, wait until she was free to love as she wished without any obstructions. Until then, my Rilian, let us continue to live as I had imagined us living. Keep me safe during the day, and let us love only during that time I allow it, until that day comes again when we can stand beneath the stars and be witnessed by all Narnia as we chose.

So it was decided. And there was another thing she didn't have to worry about any longer.

She took Rilian riding with her every day now. It wasn't anticipated, but in those days following the first escape…when she still _did _worry…she felt such guilt at the fact that he had not seen even the smallest glimpse of sun since this whole affair started. Now she realized that it would be unwise not to, as then his eyes would not be accustomed to the brightness of the day and he would be blinded and that would hardly do well for the plan. So instead she took him riding as often as she went, dressed in full armor incase anyone saw, and he lived under the belief now that if anyone saw him it would hinder her magic that would help to free him. Of course it would, but not the way he saw it as.

Either way, that was no longer a problem now. No longer a worry.

And thus the months passed.

* * *

If there was a Narnia, he felt he was too far away to see it. If there ever had been…which he was sure there was…he had lived there for all his life. But it was too hard to remember.

"There is no Narnia," her voice was soft and insistent.

He refused to answer. For the past year he refused to answer.

What if…what if he did?

_There is no Narnia._

He thought but didn't say anything. Would it be that hard to give in to it? Yes! He lived there. There were people there he cared about. They had names, and he could remember the names if he tried but that had become too hard and the names slipped away and disappeared. So what did one land matter, if he couldn't remember the names of the people in it?

It didn't matter.

How long had it been here? A hundred years? As long as the winter that happened in Narnia once. But what was winter? It was supposedly cold and filled with snow, but here the temperature was always comfortable and water never fell from the sky and if there wasn't a winter here, where he seemed to always live, then there was no Hundred Years' Winter, and therefore…therefore…

There was no Narnia.

He could try and say it. If he didn't like it he could still take it back.

"There is no Narnia,"

But much to his surprise, there was no guilt in saying it. There was only relief.

He didn't have to worry about Narnia anymore. He didn't have to remember names that he couldn't, seasons he couldn't, things he had to do in that world and things he wanted to say. There were no burdens, no responsibilities, only a strange freedom to say those words in a world he was sure always existed about a world he couldn't remember any longer.

"There was never any Narnia,"

He could almost laugh with the relief of admitting it. No burdens no worries no forgotten names nothing! Only the truth of this lady and all that she said, only this world that he existed in and always did.

There was never any Narnia!

For a moment another thought intruded, faint but insistent enough to be noticed. There's Aslan.

Aslan. The son of the Emperor over the Sea. A lion, not a tame lion but a good one, one who watched over the people of Narnia and cared for them. One who was the king of everything, even moreso than his father or anyone else. Aslan helped his people in the gravest times, it was said, and it had been proven countless times in the past.

There was always Aslan, wasn't there? The one who watched out for Narnia and every citizen of it. Aslan would care. Aslan would help him.

Rilian stared at the carpet in front of him, the same as it had always been.

How long had he believed that?

Every night, he thought absently. Every night since he came here. Aslan would find him.

But he didn't know how long it had been, just that…that it had been that. A long time. And Aslan was not here, and Aslan never came for him. There had never been a daring escape, not like his father who had escaped the treacherous King Miraz and helped bring back the lost voice of Old Narnia. There had never been _anything. _Just a witch and this underground world, cut off from everything except memories or dreams or anything. And there had just been this. There was nothing to show him that there ever had been anything but this. Aslan wasn't here.

If Aslan cared for him, Rilian thought bitterly, he would have come years ago.

Perhaps then Aslan was a dream too.

And he was wise enough to be able to tell dreams from reality.

* * *

Sara was quite pleased. The rescuers stopped coming. It had been seven years now, more than that, and it seemed they finally realized the futility of their exercise, and she was glad they stopped sending them for they had become a terrible annoyance to her. Thirty of them. She counted. Thirty had come from Narnia seeking the lost prince, and thirty had never returned. Some she had killed herself. Some took the wrong tunnel to Underland and she had found their bodies weeks later, either starved or died of thirst, collapsed against the wall, rotting into the ground. Some she had sent to Harfang under her name, and the giants of Harfang ate them as they wished. She never took part in those feasts, but it was the one thing she couldn't breed out of the giants, no matter how hard she tried. She was now glad she was never able to. Now she could use it to her advantage.

Rilian now admitted the nonexistence of Narnia. Excellent. It was truly a fair exchange now. She had not thought of Mayharran in years and agreed that it, too, was a lovely dream she had made up for a time long ago she had forgotten about. Now they were even. She was content with that.

The tunnel was progressing nicely. It wouldn't take that much longer at the rate things were going. The gnomes, she had given them a good work ethic of late, and they were taking off with that. Before long they would breach the surface.

She had set things in motion now exactly the way she wanted to set them, without hindrances and second thoughts, without problems, worries, and anything getting in the way.

Now all she had left to do was sit back and watch as her careful plans played themselves out perfectly, as she intended them to do.

* * *

He had fought, or at least used to, for a very long time. He didn't know how long but remembered trying, repeating names over and over until they sounded like nonsense. He had recited every place in Narnia...he still remembered that name, for he dreamed about it terribly often, a recurring dream that he wished he could linger in, for it was such a nice dream and far better than this dreary place…and described it down to the smallest detail. He had shouted everything he could remember…from the dreams, of course…until his voice was hoarse. He pleaded, begged, and insisted…and nothing had changed. He screamed until he no longer heard himself, and still she did nothing but look at him sadly and say she was sorry for his most unfortunate condition.

He had fought for a long time, insisting there was a Narnia, insisting that he was Rilian, son of Caspian the tenth, prince of Narnia.

Nothing had changed. He only spent an hour begging, pleading, praying, for nothing.

_Thou art king of many imagined lands in thy fantasies, _she said. _But still, it doesn't do well to torment your mind with thinking such fantasies are real. You know well that there is no other world but mine, no other world but what I have created._

Oft she said that to him, her voice soft and low and insistent. She would sit near him, and even when the fire burned clear she still gave off enchantment. It was as if it was burned into her very skin, as if she was a creature made of living magic and enchantment and nothing else.

She had a name, he knew. She used to be something else. A healer, maybe. Or a herbalist. Or a surgeon, or…or…a historian? Was that it? And she used to sit with him and…there was snow, once, was there? But he was certain she had a name, but he couldn't remember it. All he knew was enchantment and evil magic, and it left no room for names, for memories of young women from other worlds he had once embraced under the stars.

_There was never any world but mine. You must remember that too, my dear. It will soothe your mind and ease your worries. Forget about your dreams._

Yes, there was…was another world…that wasn't…yours…

There were names in that world, too. There was Lord Drinian, there was Trumpkin, there was…but…but the names he couldn't remember. It took such an effort to try and when he did, it all sounded like nonsense anyway. He would spend an entire hour trying to remember one name, only to lose it as the clock chimed eight and he belonged to her once again.

Even during that hour, he didn't belong to himself any longer. She would watch as he struggled to even remember a single name, a moment, a picture, and then all she did was praise him for his creativity and imagination.

There had been a time when she had spoken with him. She used to hate it when he did this. She used to say the names with him and help him remember. She would laugh when he recalled an event of something that happened that she perhaps witnessed and would even throw in her own version of the events, what she remembered that he forgot. They would laugh together then.

Had that been here? Or had it been someone else? He couldn't remember.

There had always been someone here. There was someone who would sometimes press their hand to his cheek and talk to him, someone who would brush back his hair or run their fingers across his wrist and soothe the burns from the ropes, but they spoke too low and he could never make out the words. No one said the words anymore, no one did any of those things anymore.

He couldn't remember the name of that lady anyway.

Now there was only a witch, and he didn't know her name either. Names slipped through the cracks and fell into the sea now.

He looked over at the woman. She was reading. She did that a lot. And she was beautiful, sitting by the fire. If only she would believe him. If only she would listen when he told her about Narnia. She was so reasonable when she spoke to him…she was a reasonable lady. If only she believed him, he knew she would show him the way home.

But where was home? Was it far overhead? And did that home even have a place for a man who couldn't even recall his own name?

Maybe she was right.

Maybe there was no other world but hers.

It was too much to think about.

The clock chimed eight. Think? No, why…why think, thoughts were too difficult to hold on to and they all vanished too fast, and the more he tried to hold on to them, the more it muddied his mind and obscured everything. One, two, three chimes. What had he been thinking about? Was it important? Four, five, six chimes. His lady had not told him anything, and she was usually the one who said anything worth thinking about. Seven chimes. Perhaps she would be so gracious as to take him out today. She was terribly wonderful like that, to use her wise magical art to keep him safe until he was free from his awful curse. Eight chimes. And then someday he would be king of Overland, with his Lady's hand to guide him, as there had been no one kinder to him over the years, no one who had taken more pains to keep help him as she had. No one more beautiful, wise, gracious, gentle, merciful…no one in the world he could ever love more.

The eighth chime fell silent and once again the hour had passed, and peace fell across Underland.

So it was, and so it had been for ten years.

* * *

In Overworld, it was a brilliantly sunny day. The waves at Cair Paravel lapped against it shores and against the boat anchored at its docks. The next day the king was set to sail far from Narnia, to the ends of the world, where he would seek Aslan in his ultimate aid. For the king had no one to succeed him, his only son vanished years ago without a trace, and everyone who had gone to look for him had never returned. The king always thought it was absurd, something out of a story told to children at bedtime…_eat your vegetables, or you will be taken away without a trace and never seen again…_but it wasn't, no matter how much the king had wished it.

The ship's banners fluttered in the sea wind, snapping smartly together when an unusually intense gust came through. Already there were many people gathered in Cair Paravel to witness the sailing of the king. Many had mourned with him the day he discovered his son vanished, ten years ago, and many had mourned since…whispering how sorry they were for the death of the prince.

The king never believed his son had died. He had stood by that belief for ten years, no matter how many people told him otherwise. He just didn't know what to do now. He didn't know who to succeed him, if he should wait until his son returned…if he ever did...or…or…

The king didn't know. Only Aslan knew, and it was Aslan he was seeking for one final answer near the end of his life.

So the king went to sleep that night, alone, as he had for years now, knowing tomorrow he would sail, perhaps for the final time.

And the next day the sun rose over Narnia, over the entire land, over Ettinsmoor and Harfang, though there was no one there to see it, for all the giants were asleep. It rose the same as it ever did, though far away, unseen by all, even the Queen of Underland whose eyes reached further than she had ever dreamed, a small change had infiltrated the fabric of the world. A boy and a girl stood at the edge of a precipice in a beautiful country, far away, and the girl, in an attempt to show off, came too close to the edge and stared over its precipice to show her bravery, and foolishness, staring down at the clouds which were so far away she confused them for sheep.

* * *

Mullugutherum squinted in the light of the lamps and stumbled along down the hallway, trying not to trip over the rich carpet. His eyesight used to be much better, but ever since his queen sent him on a mission to a far, distant land in Overworld, it had never been the same. Mullugutherum shuddered to remember that journey which he thankfully never had to repeat…months of living in open air under the sky, with the sun a horrible glaring brightness that wasn't at all comforting like the fires of Bism, and the constant fear that if he stumbled that he would fall right off the world and tumble into the endless sky overhead.

He was sure he'd never have to do it again, but now he wasn't so sure. The way his queen had been talking, with the tunnel being near completion…

That's what he had to tell her. In a manner of days they would break through to the surface. She would be quite pleased when she heard that.

He didn't want to go to the surface again, no matter how loyal he was. The only thing that consoled him was the fact that everyone else would be going too, all the people in Bism would be part of her army to fight on the surface. Even Virk and the rest of the council that had sentenced him to exile that first time…and second time…

Mullugutherum grinned a wicked, toothy grin. They'd be on the surface too. How would _that _feel for the council, the lowest people in Bism?

It had been ten years since they had fallen under the queen's jurisdiction. Mullugutherum figured that his enjoyment of the mistreatment of the Bism council would wear off after awhile, but…even after ten years, it was still there. It only got better, especially with the tunnel almost finished.

He knocked on the door with the staff three times and waited for the queen to let him in. She was sitting in front of a map of the tunnel leading to the surface.

"Yes, Mullugutherum? What news do you have for me?"

"Good news, your majesty," he said, bowing, even though she wasn't looking at him. "The tunnel is nearly completed. It will be finished in a matter of days."

"Days?" she turned around, her eyes wide and a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Perfect. It's been long enough, hasn't it? Ten years." She picked a pencil up off the desk and tossed it to Mullugutherum, who had to drop the staff in order to catch it. "Too long, really. Ah, well, it won't be much longer now."

Mullugutherum bowed again and went up to the map. She stepped aside and allowed him to climb on the table and reach up as high as he could to sketch the work that had been done on the tunnel that day. When he finished, he realized with a shiver that it _was _too close to the surface. They might as well be on it, living under all that open sky and fall into it and never return. Well at least if he fell into the sky, everyone else would, too.

He handed her the pencil again, and she nodded with satisfaction. "Perfect. Now go back, Mullugutherum. I want you to be the first one to notify me of any change."

"Many sink to the bottom, your majesty," he said obediently. She rolled her eyes and turned back to look at the map.

"And few return to the sunlit lands," she answered with an annoyed sigh. "Can't ever get rid of that password now, can I? Well, it makes them happy." She gestured absently to the window at the far left that opened to the rest of Underland. "Won't have to worry about that password anymore soon, so I suppose I can live with it for a few more days. A few more days!" she laughed joyously, clapping her hands together. "Forget my orders, Mullugutherum. Bring some wine instead. Perhaps we shall take a minute to celebrate, yes? Ten years and now finally this close to victory."

"Yes, victory, of course," Mullugutherum agreed. "In your wisdom we are humbled."

"Of course you are."

"Now, what season is it? Let me see…" she ran a finger along the calendar next to the map, and then nodded. "Nearly autumn. We will break through and have the entirety of Overworld under my power before winter begins."

"And…that is a good time, your majesty?"

"The Narnian people are terribly superstitious," she replied, sitting down and interlacing her fingers while looking at the map. "They've always seen winter as an unfortunate time for evil magic ever since they had a witch plunge their country into a seemingly eternal winter many years ago. I will play upon their natural superstition and use it to my advantage. Now go. I must prepare as well."

Mullugutherum bowed and exited, leaving the queen alone in front of the only map in the castle, smiling proudly at the pending success.

* * *

Janile pushed the head of the last moor giant and watched as he grunted and then bent back over his collection of rocks and stopped bothering anyone before she walked away. Stupid moor giants. They were all brutish and annoying and nowhere _near _as civilized as she and the rest of Harfang. She snubbed her nose at them as often as she could. They were kept in check, though. They answered to Harfang, even though they were all too stupid to know it.

With that work done, she started the long walk back to Harfang. The king had sent her on this recent job to check on the wild giants who were getting too close to the road to Harfang lately. Janile knew that if their lady was there, she wouldn't let Janile be sent on such menial tasks. Well, their lady would be returning soon. She always came around this time of year.

She hadn't gone too far when she saw something, something different from the usual flat moor and moor animals. They looked awfully small, and on closer inspection…they looked like people, kind of like their lady only smaller. One was kind of chubby…and looked quite delicious…and the other one skinnier and wearing clothes like their lady wore. That one didn't look as tasty but they both were…were…

"_Men, Janile. They look like myself, like the knights that I have sent to Harfang before. If you see them, tell me. Send a message to me somehow. If they come to Harfang…well, then they're yours to do as you wish."_

Which meant that they would get to eat them. Lady never said they couldn't. She never _joined _them in eating anyone, but she let them do it as they wished.

Janile squinted at the creatures. Yes, two of them were definitely men, though they were kind of small. Small didn't matter…they were still delicious no matter how big they were. And the third…eh, some creature, long, thin, lanky, walking slightly in front of the two men.

Marsh-wiggle.

Janile wrinkled her nose. Disgusting. There wasn't much that could be done with marsh-wiggle…they were hardly worth eating. Cooks knew a way to make it slightly more edible, but Janile herself was never interested. Men, on the other hand…

But their lady's orders were _not _to eat them right away. First, she was to be notified.

But then usually they got to eat them.

Janile watched several more moments as they got a little closer. The two men looked at her, and so did the wiggle, and then moved to get further away. Oh, so they were afraid of her! They should be. Soon she was going to eat them.

As soon as she told their lady.

She grinned at the idea of how little they knew. They were just going about their business and had no idea that sooner or later, they were going to get eaten.

That idea amused Janile so much that she roared with laughter and walked away on her own business, ignoring the bewildered and slightly fearful looks she left behind.

* * *

"And you must remember not to say anything,"

"As those are your words, I ever obey."

"Good."

Trouble by the border, Janile said. There were two men and a marsh-wiggle wandering through the moors by themselves. The men looked terribly delicious. Will we get to eat them? They're small but that's fine with us, you know.

The news had surprised Sara. She hadn't seen men or any sort of creature on the moors in years now. She figured they had given up when none of them had ever returned. She didn't know why anyone would show up _now, _not when she was only days away from completion. Had she underestimated Narnia's determination?

No, it was an accident. She handled the other thirty people sent to rescue Rilian, she could handle two more and a marsh-wiggle, although she wasn't entirely sure why the wiggle had come. They kept to themselves, on their side of the Shribble, and never bothered her and her giants never bothered them. It had been that way for far _longer _than ten years.

"Hah, calm down now," she ordered the horse, which snorted and shook its head vigorously. What was this particular beast called? Snowflake, that was it. A lovely white horse she had gotten from the far south. She still didn't like horses, but decided she wanted only the best for her kingdom, including horses.

She would ride all the way to the border and see if there was anyone, and then ride back. That should cover it.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long. As she neared the bridge, she saw the three that Janile spoke about, crossed the bridge. She pulled the horse to a halt, and Rilian stopped as well. The three came closer and they too stopped, and Sara got her first good look at the strangers since Janile mentioned them.

Two of them were not men at all, but children. One was a chubby boy with dirty clothes and a dirty face…and dirty hair…looking decidedly miserable in the cold air of the open moor. He had his hands in his pockets and was standing close to the girl, who was equally dirty, and looked even _more _miserable than the boy did. She was wearing a long dress and was trying to warm her hands and looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Both of them…they couldn't be more than ten, twelve years old! What in Yarrin's name were they doing on Ettinsmoor near winter?

The marsh-wiggle, however…he was not looking…well, she couldn't say he wasn't looking miserable because wiggles _always _looked miserable, but seemed more guarded and reserved and was looking at her with a decidedly suspicious look.

Children. Two _children. _Why were they here? It made no sense. Children never left Narnia. This land was far too inhospitable for young people to be wandering around on it. There was no reason they should be here…

Unless…

They were…rescuers?

That was nonsense. They were children, and the wiggle was just a wiggle, and unlike the countless knights she had seen, none of them were wearing armour, or armed with any sword…the boy and the wiggle had bows and arrows…which was even stranger, since there was no reason a boy of that age should be allowed to shoot.

It seemed all wrong, somehow. She couldn't pinpoint how, but the whole thing was just…just wrong. Children and marsh-wiggles didn't just wander around her moors for no apparent reason. Surely they were lost.

"Good day, travelers," she said with the usual exaggerated Mayharran accent. "Some of you are young pilgrims to walk through this rough waste." (Lewis 89)

"That's as may be, Ma'am," the wiggle replied, stiffly and just as guarded as before…no, now more so. He had a deep frown on his face…unusually deep even for a wiggle…and was standing just as stiffly as he was speaking.

"We're looking for the ruined city of the giants," the girl spoke up. There was a sidelong glance from the wiggle, who didn't look all that happy that she said that.

"The ruined city? That is a strange place to be seeking." Her hands tightened subconsciously on the reigns of the horse, though she kept up her easygoing and cheerful manner. That _was _a strange place. The ruins at Harfang were certainly _not _well known, and the only people who would have any desire to look at them were historians and record-keepers, people interested in seeing the past. Normal people…especially children…would have no interest in such things. "What will you do if you find it?"

"We've got to—" the girl started to say.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am. But we don't know you or your friend—a silent chap, isn't he?—and you don't know us. And we'd as soon not talk to strangers about our business, if you don't mind. Shall we have a little rain soon, do you think?"

Of course they were hiding something. This whole scene was completely absurd.

Sara laughed instead. It always caught people off guard. "Well, children," she said, ignoring the wiggle and looking the two children in the eyes, addressing them directly. "You have a wise, solemn old guide with you. I think none the worse of him for keeping his own counsel, but I'll be free with mine. I have often heard the name of the giantish City Ruinous…" and she could very well be preposterous back… "but have never met any who would tell me the way thither. This road leads to the burgh and castle of Harfang, where dwell the gentle giants..." she described Harfang as she usually did, dwelling on the warmth of their fires and deliciousness of the food.

The faces of the boy and the girl lit up and she could see the faintest hint of the smile on the girl's face. It was standard enough for Sara…if she saw people on the road, she would always send them to Harfang, and naturally there they would meet their end. The Harfang giants were always willing to eat anyone she sent their way, and they were especially anxious now, so close to their autumn feast. She had always tried to send them at least one man for the feast. And she could tell by the dirtiness and miserable looks of the children that it must have been a long time since they had stayed anywhere civilized and warm, and for children that young…well, it was absolutely absurd, but that was besides the point. The true point was that they most likely weren't used to it and could be easily tempted by her offer.

"I say!" the boy said, taking a deep breath. "That's something like! Think of sleeping in a bed again."

"Yes, and having the hot bath," the girl agreed almost immediately. Then she turned back to Sara, a decidedly worried look on her face. "Do you think they'll ask us to say? We don't know them, you see."

"Only tell them," Sara finished, a slight smile on her face "That She of the Green Kirtle salutes them by you, and has sent them two fair Southern children for the Autumn Feast." Then they would know that again, their trusted lady provided them with the famous treat that they always wanted for this particular feast. She had already told Janile she would send the men their way, and Janile was looking forward to it. It was the least she could do for Janile. That giant had given her years of loyal service.

"Oh, thank you ever so much!" the boy and the girl said, smiling at each other and then practically beaming on Sara.

Sara smiled broadly back at them. "But have a care," she warned, holding up a hand. "On whatever day you reach Harfang, that you come not to the door too late. For they shut their gates a few hours after noon, and it is the custom of the castle that they open to none when once they have drawn the bolt, how hard so ever he knock."

"Oh thank you!" the girl said again, looking at both Sara and the horse as if they were simply the grandest things on earth.

"Yes, thank you!" the boy agreed, and he looked at her with faint admiration. Together, the children were hanging onto her every word as if she were the moon and the sun come down from the sky to send them somewhere safe. She waved to them and they waved back with renewed vigor.

The wiggle, however…all he did was take off his hat and bow, very stiffly and very small. His eyes never left her the entire time, and were still just as guarded and suspicious as ever.

Sara kicked her horse into motion and she continued on, leaving them behind. She turned back only once, and saw the wiggle lean over the children and say something, but they were too far away now for her to be able to make out the words.

"Who were they?" Rilian asked when they were safely out of range.

"I don't know," she said, still looking behind her. "But they are clearly up to no good. What sort of children that young would be out on my moor, near winter, looking for the ruins at Harfang? It's absurd. And that wiggle…what is he doing here? My agreement with the wiggles has always been that they remain on their side of the Shribble and will not be harmed. He…is on the wrong side." She frowned. "But it is no matter. I have sent them to Harfang, as I have sent many others, and that will be the last we see of them."

"Of course, my lady."

And with that thought, they both crossed the old giants' bridge in a clatter of hooves and then disappeared over onto the other side.

* * *

The bell chimed seven, and it was such a normal occurrence that Rilian barely thought of it anymore. He didn't think much of anything anymore, for it was all far too difficult…took too much effort and achieved nothing. Today was no different, though earlier he vaguely recalled hearing the gnomes mention something about Overworld, but he forgot that now anyway.

The witch was sitting by the fire, but she wasn't reading today. She was staring into the fire…pulled out her pocketwatch to check the time, then sighed irritably and snapped it shut again. What was wrong? He didn't know. Didn't care. Stopped caring awhile ago, though he didn't remember how long.

He had been dreaming, and it was such a strange dream. His dreams normally weren't that strange. Usually they involved a beautiful land, a grand castle with people he wished he could know in reality for they were all such nice people. Usually there were trees and rivers, rivers that sparkled in the sunlight…even though there was no such thing as the sun…or rivers, or trees for that matter. Nevertheless he still dreamed about them, very vivid dreams that were just as terrible as they were wonderful, because he felt that there was something…something just out of his reach that he couldn't grasp, something he felt he should know but always managed to elude him, and he woke from those dreams feeling strange and restless and altogether awful. That reason eluded him too.

The dreams today…they made little sense. It started out normal enough…there was a moor, but he had seen the moor in the dreams enough before to not worry about that. But then it grew stranger. There were three people in the dream, and they were people he was sure he had never seen in the dreams before. Two were very small and he liked them instantly, though he didn't know how he could if he had never met them and didn't even know if they were trustworthy. The third was a tall, odd looking thing with a grave voice and a hat. They were on the moors, searching for something. They never spoke once to him, but the fellow with the hat kept looking at him, and he had an odd feeling that the tall thing was looking…looking right at him, even through the dream. The children were too busy speaking to the witch, something just as strange as the rest. The witch had showed up many times in the dreams, but she…she was always speaking to him. In this dream she was speaking to the children, and she obviously didn't like it, and seemed agitated.

That too was odd. The witch was never agitated. She was always in control of everything.

It didn't make any _sense. _The wiggle, he…

_Wiggle._

How did he know that?

The word came into his head very suddenly, and it made him raise his head in surprise. How did he know what that creature was called? Unless he had dreamed up the name as well? But no, it took him longer when he thought up names. This name was just _there. _It meant something. That tall thing was a _wiggle_, whatever a wiggle be.

The other two were awfully small. Practically children…

Why would children be in his dreams? They never showed up before. And why were they in a moor? That made no sense either.

Maybe he should ask the witch. She usually had some sort of answer for him, even though the answers were not always satisfactory.

"What is a wiggle?"

The witch turned around, her brows snapping together sharply. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"A wiggle. What is it?"

"It's…why, it's…wherever did you hear that word?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I think I just…remembered it."

"From where? Oh, wherever would you remember such a foolish word? Wiggle, what kind of name is that anyway? I'm sure it's nothing. Forget about it, dear."

"No, no, it was something, it really was something. There was a tall creature with a hat on the moors and I remember he was called a _wiggle. _And you know so much, I am only asking…asking you what it is."

"Well, there's no reason to ask. I know of no such thing."

"But you know everything," he insisted. "You always say you do, so surely you have a…an answer for a _wiggle._"

"It is _nothing. _Now stop asking!" she snapped, and whirled back around to face the fire.

She never did _that. _She never got angry. She was always the picture of ridiculous calm, and even when he pleaded with her all she did was smile and turned away, dismissing his cries with a wave of her hand and sometimes a chuckle. She didn't snap. It meant something was wrong. Maybe the wiggle was wrong? Why was she so angry that he knew that name?

"What about…were there…I've had such strange dreams today," he said finally.

"I'm sure you have. But fear not, my dear, soon the dreams will be ended and there won't be any more worries for either of us." Her voice was calm and soothing again.

"I don't understand it…I…there were three people, and two were small, I don't know why they were there, why I would dream about small…people? Men? Were they men?"

This time she turned around and stood up, her eyes wide.

"And the tall person who I am _sure _is called a wiggle, I think, that's what I remember and I don't know how I know that but I am so sure that I do. He looked at me, that creature. I don't know why. No one ever looks at me except for you, but he did, and it meant something. The children were talking to you. Children! I remember that now! I remember that word, and those people! They were talking to you and normally you never talk to anyone in my dreams. It was altogether very strange."

For a moment her eyes darted back and forth, then around the room, before she finally said, "That is all nonsense. You've been having very strange dreams and you would do well to forget them." Her last words were almost a command. No, they _were _a command.

But what could be so wrong about dreams that she would order him to forget?

Unless…

"But…what….no, they were there, they all were and so were you." He insisted. There was something…something that he was missing.

There had been for a long time something he was missing. If only he could…

"_Begging your pardon, ma'am. But we don't know you or your friend—a silent chap, isn't he?—and you don't know us. And we'd as soon not talk to strangers about our business, if you don't mind. Shall we have a little rain soon, do you think?"_

Rilian started, not caring that the ropes cut into his wrists and ankles. He remembered that now, and…and it was impossible that he dreamed _that_, for he had never in his life dreamed up someone speaking words that didn't belong to the witch. He couldn't have dreamed up the voice, either…it was like nothing he had ever heard before.

Except it was. Except he _had _heard it before, when he lived…in…Narnia…

He repeated the words that the wiggle spoke out loud, over and over, until they sounded like nonsense in his ears.

"Will you stop that!"

He opened his eyes. The witch was only feet away, looking decidedly furious.

"Stop that! Stop that incessant speaking, stop that repeating, stop _saying _that! Stop dwelling in such foolish dreams and _forget _about it!"

He stared at her and she stared back, breathing hard and pulling on a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Then she sighed and strode back over to the fire, sitting down in front of it.

Why was she so angry? That made no sense either.

Unless…

Wiggle. The wiggle spoke. The children spoke. Spoke in their voices, their unique voices, to the witch, who spoke back. In a cold place, a desolate place he had been to a thousand times before, called…called…Ettinsmoor.

Unless it was…

Not a dream?

It was a strange thought. It was something that hadn't crossed his mind in years. But it was the only explanation. He had dreamed a lot in his life, but nothing so strange as that. And if…

He had gotten used to justifying everything in his life by absurd logic. It was what the witch did, and it was something he picked up over the years. She would say, you dreamed it because it is something you wish for, and one always dreams what one wishes.

But he never wished anything so absurd in his life.

Which could only mean, by that same logic, that it was _real._

The wiggle was real, so were the children, the moor, the…the…Narnia. Cair Paravel. The Great River. The stars! The hundreds of stars that would grace the sky when the sun dipped below the horizon, the trees that bloomed with thousands of green leaves in the summer and lost their leaves in a flurry of color in the fall, the wind that could be both soft and gentle in the spring or terrible and furious in the winter, blowing snow and ice from the sky onto the ground. And so was Narnia, blessed Narnia, and everyone who lived in it. It wasn't a dream, not a dream not a dream it was _real._

He could almost laugh with the brilliant relief of that realization. That was _it. _That was what he had been trying to…to find for…a very long time. It had always eluded him, that fact, remained just out of his reach, frustratingly far away. But now he had it. There _was _a Narnia and no matter what the witch said there always _had _been a Narnia because he could dream an awful lot but not _this. _Not two children and a wiggle on a cold moor in the autumn.

"It's real, of course it was real, it was always real!"

He hadn't even realized he had spoken out loud until the witch stood up again. There was a cold fury in her eyes now.

"I forbid you to say that ever again. You should know well by now that you have had such dreams for a long time and you have been wise to long accept them as false. That still remains. They are still false, and this is no different. There weren't any children or marsh-wiggle…the very idea is preposterous, and in all my years of living I've never seen anything like that. It would never happen, it is too absurd. Forget such a dream! It means nothing!"

"No…no, see, that's it, that's why I believe it," he insisted, feeling even more certain in this fact by seeing the witch and how agitated she had become. She never became that way unless something had unsettled her, and that…that was something he knew she hated. "Maybe I have dreamed everything else. Maybe I've dreamed things people said to me or places that I've been to or things I have done. But I believe this, because…because…" it was a struggle to find the words, especially as the clock chimed again, making it that much harder. But he knew this. It was the first thing he was certain about in a long time.

"Because some things are too preposterous to be dreamt."

She didn't have an answer to that. All she did was press her lips together and tap her fingers on the armrest of her own chair, and for the first time in a long time, couldn't find anything to say.

* * *

_Jill took her courage in both hands. "Please," she said, shouting up to the giant. "The Lady of the Green Kirtle salutes the king of the Gentle Giants, and has sent us two Southern children and this Marsh-wiggle (his name's Puddleglum) to your Autumn Feast.—if it's quite convenient, of course," she added._

"_O-ho!" said the porter. "That's quite a different story. Come in, little people, come in. You'd best come into the lodge while I'm sending word to his Majesty." He looked at the children with curiosity. "Blue faces," he said. "I didn't know they were that color. Don't care about it myself. But I dare say you look quite nice to one another. Beetles fancy other beetles, they do say."_

"_Our faces are only blue with cold," said Jill. "We're not this color _really."

"_Then come in and get warm. Come in, little shrimps," said the Porter._

* * *

"This isn't going fast enough!" Sara shouted enough at the gnomes at the tunnel that day, though, to send them into an even greater frenzy of activity.

"We're working as fast as we can!" one of the gnomes pleaded, nearly falling over with exhaustion.

"Well, it's not fast enough! We've been at this for ten years, that is far too long!"

"But…but you've let us do this for those years and never said anything!"

"I was more patient then! I am not patient anymore. I demand you work harder and work faster. I am determined to break through to Overworld as soon as possible. There have been enough delays!"

"Yes, right away! To work!" the gnome shouted at the rest, who glanced over their shoulders briefly before working even harder at the tunnel, pushing themselves to the point of exhaustion in order to please their queen.

Sara nodded, pleased at the increase in work. She didn't know why it was so important, this sudden move to finish her plan, but she felt that it was beyond pressing and couldn't wait another minute. Ten years was long enough. It was too long. Oh, if only there hadn't been so many setbacks at the start with all those faults in the rock, this would have been completed a long time ago.

Ah, well. A few more days, that's all it would take. She was willing to wait a few more days. What was that, when she had waited ten years?

Nevertheless, she had grown terribly impatient and hoped those few days would go by quickly. Judging from the work her gnomes were doing now, it would.

* * *

"_It's a cookery book," thought Jill without much interest, and glanced over her shoulder. The giantess's eyes were shut but she didn't look as if she were properly asleep. Jill glanced back at the book. It was arranged alphabetically: and at the very next entry her heart seemed to stop beating; It ran—_

"MAN. This elegant little biped has long been valued as a delicacy. It forms a traditional part of the Autumn Feast, and is served between the fish and the joint. Each man—"

_But she could not bear to read any more._

* * *

It was down to days now. Three days, maybe even less than that. She was so close now, and that in itself was a feeling that left her breathless. It had been so long, and there were times she didn't even think she would reach this point. She didn't think she would have success. But now she would. Now it was only days away. A matter of three or less days, and her dreams of ten years would finally become a reality. She and her army would take Narnia. It wouldn't be that long. She had the advantage in every way possible. They would have no choice but to accept her rule.

She sat in the courtyard of her castle, her head tilted towards the ceiling. Soon she would have no need to look at this ceiling anymore, these roads and stones that made up Underland. She'd never have to look at this dark dismal cavern again, not when she would be living in Cair Paravel where the sun shone every day and the waves lapped at the shore, a salty breeze blowing from the sea.

That brief meeting with the children and the marsh-wiggle left her unsettled initially, but she had dismissed the feeling now. It was a strange occurrence, no doubt. And no doubt Narnia was growing desperate…the king had to be old now…and she had decided that they were probably willing to send anyone out to look for the lost prince now. Such a shame that they were so desperate that they resorted to sending children and wiggles on such a hopeless task. Clearly they had no idea what they were doing, setting out alone across her cold moors in search for a prince that the bravest of Narnia's people hadn't found.

Such a shame that those young lives would be lost that way. Children, she had never sent any children to their deaths in Harfang, though she had sent countless others. She shrugged it off. Their fault for taking on such a foolish task and daring to disrupt the plans that she had set so carefully. Shame to lose people so young, though. Ah, well. She was willing to sacrifice young lives in order for her plan to come to fruition, and so she had done that. It had bothered her at first, that whole encounter, but no longer. It was after the autumn feast. They would be dead now anyway.

It didn't matter what Rilian remembered. He would forget that soon as well, and now that her plan was nearly complete, it mattered even less.

She leaned back against the stones of her castle. Three days. She could wait three days. What was three days when an entire lifetime now lay before her?

* * *

"_And have you noticed how warm it is?" said the voice of Puddleglum. "That means we're a long way down. Might nearly be a mile."_

_No one said anything. Some time later Puddleglum added,_

"_My tinder-box has gone."_

_After another long pause Jill said, "I'm terribly thirsty."_

_No one suggested doing anything. There was so obviously nothing to be done. For the moment, they did not feel it quite so badly as one might have expected; that was because they were so tired._

_Long, long afterward, without the slightest warning, an utterly strange voice spoke. They knew at once that it was not the one voice in the whole world for which each secretly had been hoping; the voice of Aslan. It was a dark, flat voice—almost, if you knew what that means, a pitch-black voice. It said:_

"_What make you here, creatures of the Overworld?"_


	30. Chapter 30

Three days had soon become one day, and now it had become a matter of hours. Sara followed the gnome who had thus far been the commander of this whole endeavor to the end of the tunnel itself. She reached out and touched the top of it…most of it was loose dirt now. An earthworm fell down onto her hand, dropping wetly across her skin and then plopped onto the floor.

Earthworms were by far the best sign of them all.

"Are you pleased, your majesty?"

"Very," Sara whispered, taking a deep breath of the dank air…and the fact that it wasn't entirely dank anymore. They were so close to breaking through that even the air quality improved, not being as stale as the rest of Underland. And the worms meant they were even closer than she had anticipated. "Oh, you have no idea how pleased I am," She pulled on a lock of hair, an old nervous habit she'd never been able to get rid of. "This means we should be through by…"

"By early tomorrow, perhaps sooner," the gnome said.

"Perhaps sooner, if at all possible?"

"It is possible if we keep working."

"Then we keep working."

"Very well. Come, then, back to work!" the gnome yelled. "Your majesty, do you wish to stay here and observe us?"

"No, I am sure…oh, there is too much for me to do now. We're nearly through. I haven't given much thought to the idea of success, but now that there is…oh, the army is ready, I must see to them! Though I know that the Warden who guards the Marches has the army in good shape, so I needn't worry too much about that. There is…yes. I have to get back and prepare everything. Thank you," she nodded at the gnome. "Keep up the work, I am pleased at how this is coming along. Soon we needn't hide underground for the rest of our lives, soon we breathe and live free among the stars, yes?"

The gnome nodded, though reluctantly, because even years of enchantment couldn't breed the natural inborn terror of the overworld that every gnome had.

Sara turned to go and started the descent down the tunnel when she was stopped by a different gnome, this one panting and puffing as he leaned against the tunnel side.

"Your majesty!" he gasped. "I have found you! Oh, what excellence!"

"Yes, what is it? And if you tell me there is a problem with the tunnel, I will certainly flay you where you stand."

"No, nothing of the sort!" the gnome shook his head vigorously, and Sara relaxed. "There are just three Overworlders in the castle, that is all. I was going to bring them to you as you had ordered but I didn't know where you were, so I told the Warden…he found them…to throw them into prison and keep them there until you were ready to deal with them."

Sara froze, and as soon as she stopped moving, the gnome cringed back against the wall, knowing that when the queen stopped abruptly from something, it was never good.

"Three overworlders?" Sara said quietly, turning very slowly to look at the gnome. "And you did not kill them at once?"

"No, you always said that I was to bring them to you, but I didn't know where you were…"

"How far in the dungeon?"

"Where Elder Thanagel used to be kept," the gnome replied.

Sara still didn't relax. It was far down enough where they wouldn't be a bother to anyone, but the gnome just called Thanagel 'elder', something she hadn't heard them do in years.

"What did they look like, these overworlders?"

The gnome shifted uncomfortably. "Two were small, and the other was tall and wearing a hat," he said.

"And…and you let them _in?_" Sara struck the gnome in the face, sending him falling to the ground. "You should have killed them straightaway, or had the Warden do it! You don't know those overworlders!"

"No, but I thought…"

"Didn't think no you didn't _think_. I have to get back there _now. _And you are coming with me." She ordered, and he had no choice but to obey. "Bring me to the castle now and to the overworlders immediately."

"Yes…yes of course," he stammered.

Sara knew she was wrong to take out her fury on the gnome, but…but this was impossible. She sent those three to Harfang and surely they would have been eaten by now. How was it that they managed to escape Harfang and find their way down here? Well, they had been searching for the ruined city in the first place. Perhaps they found it before Harfang? No, because those children were so intent on going there that they wouldn't think of the ruined city at all. But then how did they find their way here?

Sara didn't like it. They were far too…what was the word? Lucky. Two children and a marsh-wiggle had found a way out of Harfang and to her city, to her castle. It was unnatural. Children didn't do things like this, and wiggles always minded their own business. There was something she didn't like about any of them, about any of this, some suspicion that nagged at her consciousness. Well, she would kill them herself now, and be done with it once and for all.

When they reached the castle, the gnomes guarding the front door bowed and opened the door. Sara ignored them and followed the first gnome to the dungeon, which had gone unused for years, ever since she had taken the insane Thanagel and moved him to a different section of the city. Thanagel was dead two years now, the madness finally driving him to suicide. It was told that he had broken out of the complex and drowned himself in the Sea.

"In which cell were they placed?" she asked.

The gnome shrugged. "I wasn't here. I was just told that they would be here."

She nodded and opened the first cell…dark, not a sign of life. The same proved true with the second, third, fourth…finally she reached Thanagel's old cell at the end of the corridor, and that too was empty.

"They're not in any of these cells," Sara said as calmly as she could. "Where are they?"

"I don't know, your majesty. They were supposed to be here."

"I don't care that they were _supposed _to. Where are they?"

"I…I don't know!"

Did they break out of the cells? No, now that was impossible. Even she doubted she would be able to break out of a cell if she was trapped in one, and she had real magic, while the children and wiggle were nothing but a children and a wiggle.

Sara took out her pocketwatch and opened it. Seven-thirty…ah, she was late. Well, she was already here, and might as well go upstairs and stay with Rilian during the remainder of the hour. She had to inform him now how close they were. He had been remembering too much of late and she didn't like it. Now…well, within twenty-four hours, it would all be finished. She would take great pride informing him of that. There would be no more use for the chair after tomorrow.

The overworlders…she still had to deal with them.

"You," she pointed at the gnome, who took several steps back. "Find the overworlders and bring them to me _immediately. _I will be in this castle for the next few hours. Have Mullugutherum bring them to me if you cannot find me. Obey these orders and it will be the last thing you ever do. I need those overworlders now. Understood?"

"Yes, your majesty," the gnome bowed deeply and then scampered off up the stairs to the rest of the castle.

Sara looked around the dungeon. She really did have little use for it, barely used it at all, in fact. It was really just for show, she mused, when she built it. Evil enchantresses had to have their dungeons, even if she didn't actually use it.

She left the dungeon and climbed the numerous stairs to the rotunda and then to the prince's apartments. This would be the last day that she would ever be in this castle. That thought was a pleasant one…she had enough of this place and wouldn't be altogether sad to see it left here. She'd keep it, though she didn't know what purpose it would serve once she was Queen of Narnia. That didn't matter, it would just be here in case she needed it.

She paused for a moment to look out the window at the silent city below her. It wasn't too bad a city, she mused. She really did create something here, and perhaps she would miss it slightly. But there was so much more she had to create now, this time in an even greater world that was open for her changes. Underland was a start, the first step to something better. Still, she had gotten used to it.

Ah, well.

Finally she reached the room, and the usual two guards were situated outside. She nodded to them, and they opened the door, bowing and allowing her to enter.

The last thing she expected to see upon entering was the silver chair, in softly smouldering ruins in the back of the room, the two children looking at her with a sudden horror and disbelief, the wiggle, who looked surprised and stepped slightly in front of the children, and…and Rilian, unbound and free, with a sword in his hand.

For a moment she couldn't think of anything to say. He looked at her, and she back at him, her eyes wide in disbelief and perhaps mirroring the same look of horror he had on his face. It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting her anymore than she had been expecting…this. This _ruin._

The first thing that came into her mind was that the chair was destroyed and she had put so many hours of work and power into that and now it was demolished and it would take her a long time to make another one. And how furious she was that anyone dared to destroy something she had worked so hard on, even though after tomorrow she wouldn't need the chair anyway and was planning to melt it down and use the enchanted metal for something else. Then her eyes flicked to the children and the wiggle and she despised them, hated them at that moment more than she ever hated anything in her life.

They were here to destroy everything.

She didn't know how, she didn't know what made them decide to come…the wiggles always kept to their side of the river, and children…oh, they were children, why would they take it in their minds to travel far away to inhospitable lands for some impossible task?

It didn't matter. She would kill them as she had the others. It was merely a minor setback.

"_If I ever find a way out, then I will take your maps and I will leave and as Aslan is my witness, you will never see me again."_

He said that once, years ago.

Then she almost laughed. With Aslan as my witness! There was no Aslan here, and there had never been. Aslan, such a pretty fancy. She had nothing to fear from him. This was still her kingdom and here she had absolute control.

"Leave us," she said to the gnomes with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." Obediently they left, and she locked the door.

"How now, my lord prince," she said calmly, though she didn't keep her awareness off the others. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why do you stand here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?" she spoke softly and sweetly, though there was no mistaking the command in her voice.

Rilian shivered, for her voice was too familiar, the enchantment still strong, and it had been too many years…too many years to easily forget after so much conditioning. She raised her chin and met his eyes, noting this reaction.

That's right, she thought with satisfaction. You still belong to me. You always will.

And then he _spoke. _"Madam, there will be no more need for that chair," he began. Calmly, rationally…too rationally, each word chosen as carefully as possible, and with extensive formality as well.

"Therefore, madam, it is my purpose, as it is also my duty, to depart suddenly from your Highness's court into my own country. Please it you to grant me and my friends safe conduct and a guide through your dark realm." He finished.

There was such strength there in those few words, in that short speech. She glanced briefly at the other three…it was because of them. They were Narnians…Narnians who after all these years _had _come and were going to rescue him. He believed this, she could tell, and perhaps they did as well, thinking that they would be safe in this dark kingdom simply because they believed they would.

But it was her kingdom, and she had the upper hand in this. She could handle this situation.

Calmly, she went over to the fireplace and took a handful of her enchantment powder, which she had always kept over the fireplace just for emergencies. She threw it into the fire, which was burning as steadily as always…and so it continued to do so, green, sweet, and drowsy. She momentarily remembered the first time she ever did this…a lifetime ago in Bism, standing in the house of the Elders. She wondered if that place still stood. She took her mandolin and sat by the fire, her eyes not leaving Rilian or the children, not yet playing. The children were staring at the carpet, then they lifted their heads and looked at her…or slightly past her, a faintly glazed look coming into their eyes. Rilian was quick to join them…it had been so many years that he had been conditioned to it. Only the wiggle fought…she could see him struggle against her magic, blinking furiously to keep his eyes open. He would be a problem. He was a problem from the start.

She began to play softly, an old melancholy tune and a repetitive choral accompaniment, still watching them the whole time. Rilian's eyelids were fluttering, and she could see it was a struggle for him to fight against her enchantment, even more so the playing. She had always played and spoke softly to him, done this as long as she could during his hour until he stopped screaming and calmed down once more. .

"Narnia," she said finally, when she was able to tell that the enchantment had sufficient hold over all of them. "Narnia? I have often heard your Lordship utter that name in your ravings. Dear Prince, you are very sick. There is no land called Narnia."

They protested at first. She had expected they would.

It was a valiant effort, too. She could see how much they struggled…the boy, insisting that they met before, that one day on Ettinsmoor. So young, she thought with a faint shake of her head. So young, yet still managed to stand his own ground. The girl, too, she was unusually strong for one of her age.

"We come from another world," she said, in response to one of Sara's questions.

For a moment she thought she would falter at her playing, but thankfully years of habit kept her from doing that. The children weren't even from Narnia! Oh, the wiggle, she understood. She understood him going on the suicidal task of rescuing Rilian. But the children weren't even _Narnian_, and they were here all the same! Two people from another world, coming voluntarily to search for someone else that they probably had never met before in their lives. Yet they still _cared_.

For a moment she almost felt sad about the necessity of killing them. Poor things, so young, and didn't even know the way this world worked. They didn't know that Aslan never let anyone return once they came into Narnia, and…so young and brave they were, to take on this task. Such a shame that they would never see their world again. Shame they didn't even know it. They were even younger than she had been when she came to Narnia.

She could spare them that fate. They were still young and malleable. She could take their minds as she had Rilian's, and those of all Bism…and since they were so young, they would easily accept her enchantment. She would wipe their minds clean of all they knew of their previous world, and they would believe entirely in her world and all that she created. Then they would never know what they could never return to.

"No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream." The girl said, her shoulders slumping when she said that, her entire posture relaxing.

"Yes. It _is _all a dream." She agreed. She could use the children, too, once she had finished this. It would be even better for the plan…not only would the people of Narnia see their lost prince, but they would see these children from another world, and see that even these people from far away who had been sent on this task weren't able to succeed.

Even they weren't outside of her control.

"Yes, all a dream," the girl agreed.

"There was never such a world,"

"No. Never such a world." The boy and girl said together.

Good. Very good. Forget about you world. Let go of all you will lose.

"There was never any world but mine,"

"There was never any world but yours," the children agreed, repeating the mantra that Sara had made countless repeat in the past.

But not the _wiggle. _Oh, never the marsh-wiggle. He wasn't like the children, not malleable and easy to control. He was not like her Rilian, used to years of living like this. He still remembered…and it was harder to make him forget. He struggled against her enchantment and made what she surmised was a rousing speech about how he always did live in Narnia and no matter what she said, she couldn't make him forget.

She was momentarily insulted that he called her mandolin a fiddle when it was obvious it was nothing of the sort.

That rousing moment didn't last long. She had been involved in arguments like this countless times with Rilian, and could counter anything they said. The sun. Ah, the sun. You see the lamp, and you wish for something greater, and so you dream it and call it the sun.

There is no sun.

There was never a sun.

"But there's Aslan,"

It was the _girl _who said it. Of all absurd things in the world, it was the girl, who hadn't even come from this world!

Aslan. How she _hated _that name, how she hated the damnable lion whom she had never met, but heard, heard his name time and time again, seen his image and how it permeated this entire world. She played faster, momentarily unable to conceal her agitation and hatred of the word, of the name, of the Narnian deity she had never seen who never ceased to leave her alone.

This was her kingdom, and there would be no Aslan here. She didn't wish it, and so it wouldn't be.

"There is no Narnia, no Overworld, no sky, no sun, no Aslan." She saw them blink, she saw the children lean against each other, eyes half shut. She saw Rilian lean against the wall, still struggling, but knowing it wouldn't work. She spoke, and so it was. "And now, to bed all. And let us begin a wiser life tomorrow."

Tomorrow they would break through. Tomorrow a new life would begin for everyone. Tomorrow all of Narnia would be reborn in the hands of a new creator.

There. They believed nothing else, and so it was done. She would play for a few more minutes, just for safety, and then the threat would be gone altogether. She focused back on the music, the threat gone.

And then abruptly…

A horrid smell filled the room, something reminiscent of burnt rubber and shellfish and frog thrown together in a pot and then dumped over a fire in the marsh late at night. It had to be the worst smell Sara had ever smelled in her life, it was…

Her head came up at the same time as everyone else's did. The wiggle was standing by her fire…with one foot in it, crushing the coals and the enchantment and banishing the magic almost entirely. The children looked confused, the girl nearly falling over in surprise with the abrupt change in the room's atmosphere.

"Dare to touch my fire again, mud-filth, and I'll turn the blood to fire inside your veins!" she snarled, her grip on the mandolin changing as if she was holding a weapon instead of a mere instrument. No, she would do it anyway. She would watch with enjoyment as he writhed on the floor, shrieking in pain as his body burned from the inside, the fire consuming his organs and leaving nothing but an empty dead shell with smoke curling from his nostrils.

The wiggle shook, but it was not a shake of fear, just of sudden determination. The glazed look vanished from his eyes, and he looked up, meeting Sara's eyes.

"One world, ma'am," he said, his voice low but certain.

One word. No, damn you, wiggle, you aren't allowed to say anything. It is my kingdom and if I do not wish it to be so, it will not happen…

But the wiggle spoke anyway.

"Suppose we _have _only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in this case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours _is _the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real-world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small lose if the world's as dull a place as you say."

And for the first time in a very long time, she was speechless.

He was a wiggle. He was just a _wiggle, _he shouldn't say this.

_Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world…well it strikes me as a pretty poor one._

She held the mandolin now, kept the damn instrument in her hands as if it was the only thing that _did _exist. Sayn Taera, she had spent years here, she had…she had taken nothing and created something, created this kingdom and named herself queen. Queen…of…

Queen of a forgotten land miles under the real world, where the sun never shines, where the people never speak unless she tells them to, where the only water is a dark ocean that laps against the shore and makes no more noise than that. A colorless land of stone and dust and rock that was no more alive than the mandolin in her hands. She had…she had tried to create something, but no plants ever took root in this soil, no fresh water ever fell from the sky into buckets to be collected and used.

They did that in Mayharran.

She hadn't thought of her world in years, yet here the wiggle's words stirred memories of standing beneath the palm trees with Hylaea during a thunderstorm, the rain lashing down through the trees onto their faces, plastering their hair down and soaking their clothes.

It was what she had tried to create here. She who could do anything, who enslaved an entire country, who could bend the will of anyone alive to her own, who…tomorrow…would take the world she was trapped in and shape it the way she wanted to.

But she couldn't even shape her own kingdom.

She hadn't recreated her home, she hadn't made a beautiful world full of life and mystery. There were no palm trees, thunderstorms, and no sun to come out afterwards, no creatures save for the gnomes. There was nothing but dust and rock and darkness.

And she had forgotten Mayharran, an entire lifetime of people who she had cared about, who cared for her, a world she had grown up in where they didn't think anything more terrible about her than the fact that she and her friend didn't apply themselves enough and spent too much time slacking off and pulling foolish pranks. She threw away an entire world simply because she could never go back to it. And here a wiggle, a damnable wiggle, a creature that was rumored to be the most pessimistic thing alive, standing here in the stone and dust and darkness showing her how foolish she had been, what he believed and what she should have believed.

They were congratulating each other now, embracing, friends that managed to survive a difficult ordeal and now affirmed their beliefs with one another.

Narnia was a world full of people like this wiggle. They wouldn't give in as easily as the gnomes had. They would fight, and even if she tried enchanting them, oh, they would fight against that too. Their beliefs were too strong and she couldn't change that. She couldn't even take Narnia.

She always had a plan, but now she couldn't think of anything past the mandolin in her hands, a beautiful instrument she had traded for, not as good as the old one but still decent and still useful.

Now what would happen?

They would leave. The wiggle said that and everyone agreed with him, always agreed with everything that he said. He was more logical than her, perhaps he was the only one who could be. And she would be here in a dead kingdom, a tomb, alone with nothing but obedient gnomes for the rest of her natural life.

They would take Rilian from her.

And abruptly the confusion and despair was washed away with a fury so sudden it even startled her in its intensity. They would take Rilian from her, and he would go back to Cair Paravel with his father and stay in its safe halls and rule forever as king of Narnia. He would go. He would never return here, and perhaps he would even bring a small army here, knowing she was still a threat, and they would tear apart her kingdom and leave it all as the true stone and dust that it really was. He would never look at her again, never stand here with the light in his eyes and say her name…Sarasael…a name as distant as the world it came from, too far away to make any sense in this world.

No. _No. _They would not. She would sooner die. She would sooner see him die.

He belonged to her. Ever since she had come to this cursed world, ever since they met beneath a tree in another time and place, he had belonged to her. He was the only one she ever cared about here, the only one for which she would change the entire world so they would together belong in it. The only reason for her triumphs, and…and now, perhaps, the only reason for her failures. But he was still _hers_, with or without failures…and they would remove that…

No. She wouldn't _let _them.

She would kill him before letting them do that. His life belonged to her just as much as anything else.

She wasn't even conscious of the transformation at first. One minute there was this sudden blind fury, and the mandolin fell from her hands, the impact with the ground throwing all the strings out of tune. And almost in response to that did she transform, feeling the vestiges of her human form disappear in a rush of green scales and heat sensory, in a form free of any constraints that held her normally. The cries and exclamations died from her ears as her human hearing was replaced with the minimal hearing of a snake, tongue flickering in and out and tasting the air, sharp and still filled with the smell of wiggle and enchantment and panic and terror all mingled together.

Before they even had time to react, she threw two coils around Rilian's body. She was fast, and her altered form had twice the skill that the normal one did. They wouldn't have a chance. She moved again, this time around his chest…she was powerful enough to choke off his breathing, and break his ribs if she must, but the death would be quick…the punctured lung would bleed and would be unable to process oxygen and death would be in moments. Suffocation wasn't her preferred form of death, it took too long, but she could speed it up if she could…she…supposed…

And then there was a hand around her neck, strong and determined. She opened her mouth in a furious hiss out of pure instinct but that did nothing, and her head was brought close to Rilian's, for a moment their eyes meeting…

She didn't even feel the first blow when it landed. She only saw his arm moving, the sword flashing in the light of the fire…and then there were more flashes, and pain, flaring to life and overtaking her entire body. It was so sudden that she loosened her hold, hardly able to help it…the pain was almost too much to bear, to think. Her thoughts were fraying, falling apart in pain and fire and cold steel. No! No, she couldn't let that happen! Her thoughts were the only human thing left, but still, it was…so hard…

And her eyes met Rilian's again, and she saw his face…there was no mercy in it. There was nothing but a cold, blank expression, with no pity or compassion or…forgiveness. It was doubtful, she realized, that he even knew who she was now…

His arm came around again and she felt more pain explode in her head as the sword struck again.

Her Rilian wasn't killing a witch, or a woman, or a captor or even an old, lost friend…he was killing a snake, a horrible thing that had killed his mother and had no qualms of doing the same to him.

She felt her tail strike the couch, breaking it into pieces. She tried to control her body but it seemed beyond her control now. So everything was, so…

So even was Rilian. If he belonged to her, he would lower his sword, he would tell the others to stand back, he would look into her eyes, though changed they were, and not only see a horrible snake but see a woman who…who still loved him, though even that had gotten twisted and warped over the years and now faltered and fell to nothing in the writhing shadows of the room that she could barely recognize as her own body.

But it wasn't so. He was Rilian, son of Caspian, prince of Narnia, who belonged entirely to himself, and if...if she had realized this years ago, then…perhaps…

She didn't know. She couldn't think. It was too hard to think, the pain stealing away her thoughts and a vague numbness taking its place…slowly…the fire settling down to coals, too hard to see, too hard to taste, growing steadily distant and she couldn't hold on to it even if she wanted to. Thoughts were too hard, slipping away as the minutes passed…

_Is this what you felt? _Yet that thought remained, as she could faintly see Rilian's outline standing in the shadows all around the room. _Every night, when I kept you here? Every night, when the clock chimed eight…and you were under my power once again…is this how it was?_

The room was slowing down now, so were the shadows, faint and strange and distant now, though Rilian was still there, his sword still there, cutting through the flesh and bone of her neck. Yes, this was death, it had to be…if death came in the form of a mad prince whose mind she had torn apart in an effort to rebuild it the way she wanted.

She wanted to cry, but snakes couldn't cry, and she couldn't think of what crying was.

She wanted to say…say something, still to him, one last word, but snakes couldn't speak…and a moment later she had forgotten what she wanted to say, though the knowledge that it was desperate and she had to say it still remained, wanted to speak one last time to him, as...the…queen of Underland? But that title slipped from her mind. Lady of Harfang? No, neither that. Sarasael. Sarasael Inari. That must have been her name.

She wanted to say…

But there was nothing left to say.


	31. Chapter 31

It is one thing to want something, to wish for it with every bit of your being, to dream about it almost obsessively until you can think of nothing else. It is another thing to do it.

The room was a mess. There was little of it left to remind him of the room he had been in every day for ten years. Now the chair was gone, and the room was filled with the smell of failed magic, burnt marsh-wiggle, and blood. It bore no resemblance to the sickly sweet smell of enchantment, or fire, or rosemary. The room was covered with blood and bits of bone, the broken and dead body of a snake lying on the floor, head separated from its body, bleeding onto the carpet.

"Gentlemen, I thank you."

Paltry words, Rilian knew. But anything he could say now would be paltry...you couldn't thank someone for giving you your life back.

The sword was still bloody. He ought to get rid of it. There were other swords here, he would get one before they left.

No one was speaking. Puddleglum and Eustace still had their swords, just as bloody as his own, not looking at each other. It was silent, too silent, he still hated silence. And no one was moving, either. What, did they have nothing to do? Nothing to say, or think, or…

It occurred to him that they were waiting for him to do something. He was prince of Narnia, and ought to know what to do, even in the face of the darkest of dangers. He should do something.

"My royal mother is avenged," he said, finally, when that thought made itself clear in his mind. "This is undoubtedly the same worm that I pursued in vain by the fountain in the forest of Narnia, so many years ago. All these years I have been the slave of my mother's slayer. Yet I am glad, gentlemen, that the foul Witch took to her serpent form at the last. It would not have suited well with either my heart or with my honor to have slain a woman. But look to the lady."

And thankfully, they turned from him to look at Jill, who was sitting in the witch's chair and biting her lip furiously and twisting her hands in her lap.

"I'm all right, thanks," she said with a small smile.

"Damsel, you are of a high courage, and therefore, I doubt not, you come of a noble blood in your own world. But come, friends. Here is some wine left. Let us refresh ourselves and each pledge his fellows. After that, to our plans."

"A jolly good idea, Sir," said Eustace.

Jill immediately took a goblet and filled it with water, clutching the goblet tightly in her hands and drinking the water as if it was the last bit of water in the world. Eustace sat next to her and Puddleglum next to him.

"Perhaps," Rilian said. "The witch has left a map of sorts close by. I will go presently and see if there is one for our use,"

"A good idea," Puddleglum agreed. "But she might have burned all the maps, or hid them far away under lock and key, or left them with the Earthmen where we couldn't get to them at all, I wouldn't be surprised."

"So that may be," Rilian agreed, but still went to look.

The rooms were almost entirely empty. The gnomes were elsewhere…no, she had told them to leave the room, and they would do that. They wouldn't be anywhere near her, for they always obeyed her orders, unfailingly.

There were no maps anywhere. He pulled open every drawer and shut it again, then opened some drawers several times, forgetting he had even opened them in the first place.

There was too much to think about. Had ten years passed this quickly? And was it possible that they could end this quickly? Could they find their way to the surface? Would the gnomes stop them?

There was a dead snake lying in the other room. So it would lie there forever, he was never going to touch it again, never going near that room. He would sooner leave this castle and die in the twisted passages of Underland than go back there again.

So his mother was avenged. It was something he had desired for years, and it was strange that now that the task was accomplished…

_What did you think it would do, bring her back?_

It would avenge her, the death of the one who killed her on a warm May afternoon years ago.

Drinian had once said that it wouldn't bring any honor to kill a senseless creature, a snake who didn't know better.

Snakes didn't know better. Witches did.

But there was no time to think about that, or anything else, for that matter. Dead snakes, dead witches, dead enchantresses, dead captors, dead friends, it all blurred together in the darkness of Underland. Any minute the gnomes would discover what happened, and then perhaps they all would die. There would be time to give voice to such thoughts later, if they made it out alive…or never, if they were buried or drowned or killed and left in this darkness forever.

"There aren't any maps," Rilian said, coming back into the room where the others waited. "No doubt she did keep them far from mortal sight."

Puddleglum nodded. "And no doubt she's made other plans to keep us from reaching the surface. If there is a way, we ought to find it as soon as we can."

"Oh, Puddleglum, we can't do anything with you hurt!" Jill said, putting down the drink and pointing to Puddleglum's foot, which he was keeping off the floor. "Isn't there something we can do?"

"We can wrap it with something," Eustace offered with a small shrug. "Can't we?"

"A fair idea indeed. Let me bring something." Rilian went into one of the other rooms and brought back several shirts, taking one of the knives off the table and using it to tear the shirt into pieces.

"We can use the butter for…to keep it from…a dressing? Is that what it's called?" Jill asked.

"You are as resourceful as you are brave," Rilian said to Jill, who gave a shy smile and took the butter off the table.

Once that was done, they took a moment to plan their leaving, and before long they left the castle and set out onto the road away from the castle.

One road led to another, all through the dark kingdom that blended together after awhile, despite the shouts and cries of the gnomes and the crashing of everything as it tumbled around them. The kingdom was falling apart, the sea rising, ships crashing into the piers and then together falling into the depths of the rising water. The castle was falling, too, crumbling to join the dust and rocks all around it. There were constant tremors and lights flashing brilliantly for a moment before fading away. The witch's spells that kept the lights in the castle were fading, and the fire was meeting the collapsed stone and flaring into brightness before disappearing again, having nothing to sustain it.

The entire world was falling, and if they did not hurry, it would take them along with it.

Rilian nudged the horse further along, the horse's hooves clattering against the paved stone, though that too was starting to crumble beneath their feet. It was a world built on enchantment, and without the witch alive to sustain it, everything would be destroyed. They had to hurry. It would soon collapse on them as well…and why wouldn't she want it that way? It is how witches always planned. She wouldn't mind death if she took them with her, leaving all of their broken bodies buried in a tomb of rock and dust for eternity, never to be discovered until the world itself ended.

Yet Bism was beautiful. There was a strange depth to the land that he could barely see in that far chasm that spoke of wonders unknown, new and exciting that no one else in the world had ever touched. He wanted to do something, just once, that his father had never done...and for a moment, standing in front of the brilliant land of Bism he was irrevocably taken over by that old dream. But it vanished just as quickly as it came, blew away on the hot air to die in the chill of the Underland. It was an old dream and it would do nothing now, not when his father was close to death and the rest of the world was collapsing. But still it was beautiful, that land where the gnomes lived, their home…and he was glad for them, that these people he had been wrong about for ten years had finally found their way home. The witch was dead, and now they all would be home again. Yet it was such a strange world, of lights and fire and living jewels…it was a place he would never be able to go, but knew at that moment he would dream about it until the day he died.

There was a great shuddering as the chasm started to close, a great rift shutting and sealing away that strange land forever. The rest of the Underland still followed, the tremors from the chasm sending the buildings tumbling to the ground. And what the tremors didn't take the water did, rising at an ever increasing pace and rushing around the fallen stones, reclaiming them forever. Soon the water would reclaim this cavern altogether, the stones washed away and the buildings faded into distant memory. Was it even possible? Could ten years of enslavement in this place be washed away in a matter of hours as the familiar buildings collapsed and the roads were swallowed in the rising tide? Ten years of life where nothing existed beyond these walls. Ten years that disappeared all too quickly into the water, leaving only the hope that they would reach Narnia before they fell victim to the destruction.

The horses kept going along the road even after the chasm closed, leaving only lights that were dimming by the minute, and a wet road that went sharply downward before in the distance sloping upward into the witch's tunnel, the last great project she had started.

For a moment Rilian looked back, but the city had vanished, all the stones reclaimed by the earth from which they came from. Even the great castle was gone…and it seemed almost absurd that it could disappear as well, as if it mattered just as little as the ten years that had passed. And so this was the end of Underland, it all collapsing into an enormous tomb, with only a faint wind stirring from the fall of the rocks and the rush of the water. And perhaps a whisper followed them, faint and far away…

_Forget me..._

But a moment later, Rilian was sure he imagined it, and kicked his horse into a gallop down the steep slope to get to the main tunnel, with Jill and Puddleglum on their horse following along.

* * *

Mullugutherum's trial was ten years late.

It was the first order of business that the Bism council had gotten to once all the citizens had returned and the chasm closed, sealing away the horrid Overland and their equally horrid enslavement. Mullugutherum had stood there the moment the chasm did close, looking thousands of feet upward to a land he was sure he'd never see again and for a moment was thoroughly _glad. _He had never grown accustomed to living so close to the surface. He never grew used to the surface, either.

He remembered the one time he went to the surface. He had done that by order of the Queen. He had done _everything _by order of the queen, dating back all those years to his second trial when they both stood before the Bism council, waiting to hear their fates. She hadn't been a queen then, but she was someone with power, and Mullugutherum had been willing to stand by that. Anything, to get away from Bism and the rules that held him bound and exiled forever.

Now there was no trace of that, the chasm closed and sealed and every single person in Bism sure in their hearts that nothing in the world could make them return there.

The council met immediately, only hours after the chasm closed. "Order!" Elder Virk had cried, waving his arms around as he gathered the people who now remembered they were part of the council. "We must restore order! For years the Witch has kept our natural order from us, perverting it and twisting it with her horrible overland evil! We have to restore to us what belongs to us!" and so he had called the council, and that was where they all were, sitting at the bottom of Bism in the council chamber.

It was strange for all of them, even Elder Virk. They still lapsed into calling him "Warden" even though that was no longer his title…with the witch dead, he was a proper Elder once again. Though he didn't know how long that would last…when the witch was killed, she was still wearing the jewels of Bism, and without them, no one knew who was elder and who wasn't or even if that was important at all. And the other members of the council every once in awhile glanced in the direction of Mullugutherum, who was now standing with his hands and feet bound near where Virk was, with glances of fear. They were too used to him being the right hand of the Queen, dispenser of her vile words and lies when she wasn't around to say anything.

The building was just as it had been when they left Bism. The fireplace was still blown out, and the room left in a state of chaos. The council hated being there, because it made them remember in excruciating detail the very beginning of their long enslavement. And there was the echo of Elder Thanagel still here, though he had died in a state of madness years before.

Virk was trying to keep everything together, but it wasn't easy. He too was struggling to bring back normalcy when all normalcy had been obliterated for ten years.

"Ahem," Virk rapped sharply on the table in front of him where sat as customary of an Elder. "Can we…can we have order, please?"

The other members of the council finally settled, though they were still staying away from Mullugutherum.

Then there was a loud _bang _and a stirring round of song, and Councilman Three looked outside the window. A very tall gnome covered in scales with five eyes was wandering past the window, holding a large party horn which he was blowing joyfully while singing an old Bism tune about salamanders. He was quickly followed by several of his friends, holding bottles of distilled sapphire juice and waving them about in the air in time to the song.

Virk sighed. "Three, close the window."

Three obeyed.

"Can't even have order now, can we? I'm trying to hold a meeting and restore order and here everyone is _ruining _it."

Three exchanged a glance with Four. They were only celebrating. It had been a _long _ten years and a long enslavement, and being back home in Bism was the greatest thing that could have happened to anyone. There was nothing wrong with celebrating…really, Three was under the belief that they shouldn't even be having this meeting now and should run outside, steal the sapphire juice, and celebrate along with the best of them. Their enslavement was _over _and they were home and could properly call themselves Bism gnomes again. Wasn't that cause to celebrate?

"Ahem," Virk repeated, banging harder on the floor to get the wandering attention of the Council. "We're here to commence with the trial of Mullugutherum, a trial that began years ago but was abruptly halted. Mullugutherum, come forward."

Mullugutherum shuffled forward, keeping his eyes on the floor. It like nothing had changed in all those years. He had a brief moment of glory standing at the queen's side, and now he was back to being dirt that fell on the head of an Elder.

"Your crimes have increased since your last time standing here," Virk said, rising and resting his hands on the table. "The first, being…"

Then the window crashed open, a large ruby flying through the air and finally landing with a _splat _on the ground.

"Sorry!" a gnome poked her head in through the window and waved an apology at the Council. "Didn't know you were having a meeting!"

"They're having a meeting?" another gnome looked in. "How funny!"

"Isn't it _just_?" the other agreed with a wild laugh. "Here, Maf, throw another one!"

And then another ruby flew in through the window and splattered next to Five, covering him with ruby juice.

"Why…the nerve…the impertinence!" spluttered Virk. "Stop that at once!"

"Do it again!" the girl giggled.

This time three rubies came through the window, landing in various parts of the council chamber, one dangerously close to Virk's head.

"We are trying to conduct a trial here!" Virk shouted, jumping out of the way of the ruby just in time for it to splatter against the desk.

"Ooh, trials," giggled the girl. "They're doing a trial, Maf!"

"Why?" Maf asked, juggling this time a ripe sapphire in his hand. "Do you have to do that _now?_"

"Yes!" Virk replied immediately. "We are trying to restore _order _and…"

"Order? What about freedom?" The girl said, holding out her hand to Maf. "Give me that one." This time she aimed carefully, threw, and hit Eight squarely on the forehead, which caused both of them to erupt in giggles. Seven had to look away, because he was sure that _he _was going to laugh as well.

"Will you stop that!" Virk waved his arms around, but it was useless.

"Why?" asked Maf. "We don't have to. We're free! Free from the witch's enslavement and foul orders and evil magic of the Overworld! Come on, Dini, let's dance!" Maf dropped the remaining two jewels and grabbed the hands of the girl, and the two danced away to the off-key song of the earlier gnome.

"Ridiculous," muttered Virk. "Absolutely ridiculous. Back to business now, shall we? Mullugutherum stands trial here on this day for numerous crimes, attesting back to…"

And then Virk was interrupted again by a large firecracker lit in the council chamber itself, which exploded against the ceiling and sent multicolored sparks everywhere.

"Five!" Virk gasped, staring at the council member who held the remnants in his hands. "What was that for?"

"Why not?" Five said, grinning at the sparks. "Haven't been able to do that in years, and don't you just feel like you want to?"

"I do!" Three chimed in.

"Likewise!" agreed Eight, who promptly did.

"And," Five added. "My name isn't Five. It's Cald."

"Pleased to meet you, Cald. I'm Frep." Three said, and he and Cald shook hands as if they were meeting for the first time.

"I'm Borl," Eight added, and held a firecracker out to Cald and Frep. "Want one?"

"But of course!" Frep took it and aimed it at the ceiling, and the three councilmen laughed with joy at the brilliant colors that erupted against the already brilliant Bism architecture in a world so delightfully bright that they could laugh all day.

"Stop that!" Virk demanded, but by this point several other council members were joining in, and within minutes the entire chamber was alight with fireworks and a more on-key tune being sung by Frep, who stood on the table and linked arms with Borl as they belted out a long-forgotten song. "We are trying to conduct a trial!"

"Think that other chap's right," suggested Mikka, formerly known as Seven. "Why _are _we having a trial? Think celebration's the best option, eh, Cald?"

"Got that right, Mikka!"

And then much to Virk's astonishment, Mikka walked to the front of the room and unlocked Mullugutherum's chains. Mullugutherum looked at the councilman with equal astonishment.

"What's that for?" Mullugutherum asked at the same time as Virk exclaimed, "What do you _think_ you are doing?"

"Oh come off it," Mikka answered, waving his hand dismissively. "And stop being such a canker. You're not warden and the rest of us aren't slaves and frankly I think that's cause enough to be happy. We've been doing nothing but living under rules against our wills for years, I say now we forget that and try to actually live a little, eh?"

"But…but there's…"

"I say let the poor sod go," agreed Cald.

"I'd say this is punishment enough," Mikka tapped Mullugutherum's eyebrow and then looked at his eyes which had been a strange filmy yellow ever since his venture. "The witch made him go to the surface and _stay _there for awhile."

A shudder ran through the council at the very thought.

"And that almost happened to _us_," Mikka added in a hushed voice.

"That's like a punishment," said Cald, looking momentarily confused. "Though I don't know for what."

"Not having enough fun!" Borl shouted in the middle of his song.

"Yes!" agreed Frep, who slipped on the ruby juice and fell on the table, and that caused him and Borl to laugh uproariously.

"I say sod the rules!" Cald said. "Keep some and get rid of the others and not have _anything _to do with that tyrannical rule of the witch's, eh?"

"Good on you, Cald!" exclaimed several other councilmen.

"Splendid idea, I say!"

"Right bit of fun that will be, won't it?"

"Haven't danced a jig in years, now's as good a time as any to start!"

Mikka threw Mullugutherum's chains in the air, and they hit the floor with a loud _thud. _"Come on, Elder Virk," Mikka said. "We can hold trials _later. _We have all the time in the _world _to hold trials. Now, I say, let's all light off firecrackers and go dancing in the town until the salamanders call us back home!"

And the rest of the council cheered in response to that, and before Virk knew it, his council was filing out the door, singing along with Borl and Frep at the top of their lungs.

Virk and Mullugutherum exchanged glances, and for the first time in countless years in the fiery, bright land of Bism, an elder and a criminal were giving each other the same looks and sharing the same thoughts.

"Ought we to join them?" Virk said after a time.

"A good idea, elder," Mullugutherum agreed.

And so Elder Virk, formerly Warden of the Marches of Underland, and Mullugutherum, formerly the right hand of the Witch-Queen, followed after the rest of the council, joining in with their own songs that carried all the way down to the river of fire.

* * *

"Sire, your father's ship will be arriving in the harbor shortly," the griffin said, landing on the pier, brown feathers glistening in the sun.

"Portly? The king isn't _portly, _he's old and scrawny like me, what are you talking about there, Candrin?" Trumpkin demanded, squinting at the griffin and pulling on his beard.

"I said that the king's ship will be arriving SHORTLY!" shouted Candrin. "And I wasn't talking to you," he added.

"Well why didn't you say so? Just because there's been all this excitement, doesn't mean you have to talk so quietly no one can hear you."

"Trumpkin, no offense meant, but you know your hearing has been declining lately."

"Hearing's just _fine, _it's all these other creatures who can't talk like they used to." And so Trumpkin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, not talking to anyone else on the pier, though there were enough people where he would have no problem if he chose to.

Candrin sighed in annoyance, folding his wings and fluffing his feathers against the sea breeze. "My apologies," he said to Rilian, standing next to him on the pier.

"He does this often?"

"It's been exceptionally bad lately. I'd suggest not mentioning it to him, he gets very defensive."

"So I've noticed," Rilian glanced sideways at Trumpkin who was now making a point of ignoring everyone.

"Anyway, the ship is arriving very soon. It's still in the ocean but coming very near to the pier, sire. Your father will be very happy to see you."

Rilian looked back at the ocean, trying to see if he could see the ship from here. The wind was chilly…and why wouldn't it be, considering it was winter…and it blew steadily across the ocean through Cair Paravel. Was it always this windy here? It must have been, sea breezes blew consistently. And it had to be this cold during winter, but it was much colder further north…almost brilliantly cold, the clear sort of cold that allowed you to look skyward at night and see each of the stars, and the moon, outlined clear against the dark sky. There had been snow on the ground, so cold it would make your hands numb if you held onto it for too long.

Yet the weather here still remained fair, despite the snow in the north. The sun was high in the sky, bright and warm despite the cold winter weather. It shone and brightened the land without the use of lamps or magic or anything. It was like stepping out of one dream into another, Rilian thought. It made Underland seem a thousand worlds away, for that place bore no resemblance to the true beauty and reality of Narnia. It almost made ten years of imprisonment seem a distant dream, a distant memory.

There were so many people here, and they all spoke to him at once, as if each one had something so important to say that it couldn't wait another minute. As if they thought as soon as he arrived he would vanish again and Narnia would be left alone. It had been that way since the moment he arrived back here in Cair Paravel, where thousands of people were already waiting for the king to return. Cair Paravel itself seemed practically a dream…wandering through the old familiar halls while its people brought him food and clothes felt too strange, too distant.

There were so many people at the pier waiting now. It had taken forever just to get to the end…too many people kept pulling at his cloak and sleeves and asking him questions. Those who didn't ask questions were just _staring_, and it was terribly unsettling…so many eyes on him all at once, some even gawking, like they either believed their mysterious lost prince had died and was now a specter wandering the streets of Cair Paravel, or they…or they honestly believed he had come back and were too shocked to say anything. Maybe that's why they kept pulling on his clothes…to make sure he was real. He understood that.

He hadn't slept since they left Underland…after the children had gone to bed, and the people there stopped asking questions, he had stayed up all night in that field under the stars. It was bitterly cold, and the sky was dark and the stars the only thing that gave light, and the ground was covered with equally cold snow…but it was _something, _not like the steady, unchanging temperatures of Underland and the scenery that never moved or changed. Here the stars moved through the sky, as did the moon, and eventually the sky had gradually lightened until the sun rose over trees and distant hills. There was no need to sleep because there was too much to take in, to remember, to feel again.

It was more here at Cair Paravel. This city was so alive it was almost too much to take in…hundreds of people living and breathing and existing all at the same time under the same sun, living different lives side by side in the same city. There were shouts of people selling things, laughter of children chasing each other through the streets (and parents chasing after them, though they weren't quite laughing), everyone moving on some sort of important business they _had _to get to on time…so much life. So much different life. So many sights, sounds, smells…too many sensations to even consider.

It had been that way ever since leaving Underland. One thing happening after another, speeding by too fast to leave him time to think. And here in Cair Paravel with the sun rising over the ocean and the breeze steadily blowing, and thousands of lives living, people speaking…

He was alive, and felt as if he had never lived until now.

"Can't see anything here, can you," Candrin grumbled. "Far too many people on this pier…can you see properly, sire?"

"Yes, don't worry," That was just as strange as the rest of this, having everyone speak to him like this. The gnomes rarely spoke unless she told them to. The only person who ever addressed him directly was the witch, and even she had stopped doing that towards the end.

There were too many people to try and find where Jill and Eustace were, though he had tried. He was told that they were coming later, since it had been a long journey for them and they were young and needed more sleep. They should be here by now, but by this point the throng of people had grown so much that he could barely tell one face from another. He hoped they were still out there, even if he couldn't see them.

_I owe you a greater debt than I can ever repay._

They weren't there to answer, but that was fine. They were brave, good people, and he had assumed they understood the depth of his gratitude even if he wasn't able yet to express it.

"There!" Candrin launched himself into the air and countless people followed his flight. He circled once or twice and then landed back on the pier next to Rilian. "There's the boat. It's coming up the river."

And now even Trumpkin had to pay attention again, for the ship filled up the whole of everyone's view, grand and majestic against the midday sun. The sounds of people talking and shouting all abruptly died away as the great ship sailed to the pier, the banners waving in the sea breeze, snapping smartly when a particularly sharp gust came this way. The ship stopped at the pier, and there was a flurry of action as it was secured and held steady.

Then the music started. It was slow, steady music…but true and beautiful and every bit as real as everyone in the city.

It was the music that was worst of all, Rilian thought suddenly. The moment he heard the music, loud and solemn, he felt the sudden urge to run…to get away from here, though he didn't know where he would go. But it felt that there was too much, too many people and the music was too real…the witch's music was steady and quiet, the playing of an amateur mandolin player. Not like the trumpeters and other musicians, whose sound blended together harmoniously and perfectly but was so solemn, and triumphant, and it was the fact that music could sound that way at the same time that was incredibly overwhelming.

But there was no time to run, not for nonsense like that. Not when the gangway was up and there were people all over the ship, and any second now he would see his father again.

It had been a very long time…what if his father had forgotten him?

No, that was completely irrational.

A man was walking hurriedly down the gangplank and onto the pier. The knight was tall and pale, with a graying beard and very large eyebrows. Rilian didn't remember this person at all, which bothered him instantly. That had been one of the only dreadful things about returning to Cair Paravel…countless people had come to him and told him how grateful they were that he had returned, and kept telling him things that they remembered of him and things they remembered speaking to him about. And he couldn't recall any of their names or where he last saw them.

The knight stopped in front of him and Trumpkin and took off his hat, holding it against his chest and bowing breathlessly. "My lord," he said to Trumpkin, who stopped ignoring everyone else to focus entirely on this knight. "Your majesty," he bowed even lower to Rilian. "I am honored to see you again. It has been many years, and though many of us have despaired…"

"And I am honored to see you again, sir…"

"Stalis, sire."

"Stalis…" this name was familiar, moreso than any of the others had been. "I knew you well, didn't I?"

"Yes," Stalis said with another bow. "We traveled across Narnia together many years ago when you were young."

"Ah," But he still didn't remember entirely…but this time there was something, though it was vague…there were three knights, a very long time ago, and they had been good people. "There were others, yes?"

"Mien, sire. And Toire."

_Two men, best friends for years, practically inseparable though they got into arguments about everything under the sun up to and including the sun itself…_

"I remember them,"

"That's good," Stalis said, though he seemed unsure of why it was such a major even that their Prince had managed to remember something. "But…but there has been a problem, sire."

"Problem?" Trumpkin interrupted. "Problem, what problem? We can't have problems now, can we?" and then in a quieter voice, "He did say problem, didn't he?"

Stalis turned to the dwarf. "I'm afraid so. The king…he is…unwell."

"Shame, isn't it," Trumpkin said absently.

"Unwell? What do you mean, 'unwell'?" Rilian demanded.

Stalis looked uncomfortable. "It has been a long journey and the king is very old. He was not strong enough for a journey such as this, and returning home…I am not sure he can hold on much longer."

"You don't mean…"

"I am afraid he is dying, sire. Forgive me."

"You can't mean that. Be honest, Stalis. My father is stronger than half the people in this city, he's not just going to die." It wasn't _possible. _

Then other people came down the plank, carrying a pallet with a figure on it, an old figure whose white beard spilled over the edge of the pallet and to the floor. The crown on his head glinted in the sunlight and the king himself was barely moving.

"This can't be good," Trumpkin muttered.

"Stand aside. Come on, now, _move._" Rilian shoved aside Stalis and the griffin and ran as quickly as he could to the pallet, kneeling next to it despite the loud protests of the people behind him.

Caspian's eyes blinked in the bright sunlight. He raised his head, trying to sit up further on the pallet but was too weak to do so. Rilian caught him before he fell back down, and the two embraced as if there hadn't been ten years and a thousand experiences separating the two.

"My son," Caspian whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking with age. "Aslan told me…when I…sailed…that I had to go back. You would be waiting for me here. I wasn't…sure that I…believed him."

"I know, father. It's hard sometimes."

"It is," The king's eyes fluttered, a struggle for them to remain open.

"Listen, father, it's not that far to the castle. Stalis tells me you are unwell…don't worry about that. There are plenty of healers in the castle, I'm sure they'll be able to help you. If not I can find others. Remember Nirisath? She lived here years ago, I remember her, I'll find where she lives and call her here to help you."

"Healers?" Caspian chuckled. "I'm afraid it's too late for that, my son. I've…I should have died years ago."

"No, you shouldn't, and you don't have to die now," Rilian clasped his father's hands tightly.

"It's been too long," Caspian said. "But I waited. I knew…knew you weren't dead."

"I was afraid you had forgotten me."

"I was afraid I'd never see you again."

Rilian smiled faintly. "I suppose we aren't that different, then,"

"Never were," Caspian agreed. "I think you'll make a fine king, my son."

"I don't know,"

"Why not?"

"I don't know how I can rule a country that I haven't seen for ten years."

"If anyone can find a way, you will."

"I hope. But let's not talk such morbid things right now…you've returned. Let's go back home, back to the castle, and you can rest until you regain your strength."

Caspian smiled again and didn't say anything, looking past Rilian's head, already miles away. He raised his hand, lightly resting it on Rilian's forehead.

"You'll make a fine king," he said again, now his voice as far away as his eyes. "Narnia won't forget you. Welcome home, Rilian."

Before Rilian had a chance to say anything else, Caspian's head fell back on the pillow and his hand down next to him, dangling off the side of the pallet.

The musicians stopped. All of Cair Paravel stopped, not a single person moving, though the banners on the ship kept waving and the wind kept blowing and Rilian had the absurd idea for a moment that the wind ought to stop blowing too, if everything else was.

_I should have come back sooner. I should have found a way out sooner. Oh, father, I'm sorry that I didn't, but you don't have to die yet, there's still too much I have to say…_

Nothing else changed, except the wind kept blowing and the banners kept snapping and there was perhaps for a moment a warm breath on the pallet, perhaps Aslan's breath itself, before the musicians started playing again.

And this music was a thousand times worse than before, because now it was slow, solemn, the bright major key modulating to a sad and eerie natural minor. Perhaps it was the music. Perhaps it was the death, another death, and Rilian felt that there was nothing but death for ten years, and now his father had died, too. It was at that moment that he had never felt more alone in the world, and didn't even have his father's voice to tell him otherwise. He leaned over and wept, still holding his father's hand while the music continued to play.

* * *

The funeral lasted for the rest of the day and into the night. It seemed that all of Narnia attended, from the citizens of Cair Paravel to those all the way near Beaversdam. It was known all through Narnia that the king had sailed, and many had arrived from all over to see the king when he returned. None were expecting a funeral, yet it happened all the same.

It was the saddest day in Narnia since the Queen's funeral years ago. News reached the rest of the country very quickly, being spread by all the Birds and other flying Beasts until not a corner of the world was left without knowledge. Though the funeral remained in Cair Paravel, all of Narnia mourned with them that day. Even Trumpkin stopped being crotchety, if that was at all possible, and mourned the passing of the king with the rest of him, not a single 'what?' being issued for the rest of the day. If he was tempted to, he didn't say anything.

It was decided that the prince's coronation would not be for another few days, yet that fact was too quickly lost on the people of Narnia who immediately began addressing him as King, even though not a day had passed since Caspian had died. It was always the way of the Narnian people, but it left Rilian unsettled, though that odd feeling was lost in terrible grief too quickly.

The funeral lasted well past midnight, and even then the musicians still played. Caspian was buried at the banks of the ocean, for it was agreed upon by everyone that it would be best, facing the east looking out to sea. It was late by that point, the moon high over the sky and each star standing out in the cold winter air, especially when most of the lights in the city had gone out. Enough people by then were telling Rilian to go inside the castle and sleep, but he had declined them all, wanting to sit out by the sea and sit vigil the best he could for his father. It wasn't a common practice in Narnia, but no one said anything against it this time.

They left him alone for that night, but it was a clear night with a full moon so it hardly mattered.

"I'm sorry, father," Rilian said quietly, sitting on the cool sand by the shore. "I should have come back sooner. I hope you can forgive me for…for not coming, for at some times even forgetting. I never meant to forget you, or Narnia, but…but there were too many times when I did. I hope you understand."

There was nothing to answer him, just the sea breeze and the call of distant seabirds. Perhaps his father heard, he hoped, and understood, and for a moment the wind seemed to whisper, but the words were too low to make out and he shook his head, figuring it only a desperate wish of his tired mind and vivid imagination.

The next morning, the knight Stalis arrived, lightly touching the prince's shoulder to wake him from his light doze.

"Your majesty. I'm sorry to interrupt the vigil, but the sun has risen,"

Rilian blinked at the knight, still trying to place his features but failing. "And…that means, I should…"

"There's always work to be done," Stalis said almost apologetically. "Countries never sleep. There is a family of Sparrows who have been having a problem with foxes and they came to see Trumpkin, but…you know, Trumpkin…" Stalis trailed off and didn't need to finish that sentence, because most Narnians _would _finish that sentence and Stalis was too polite to do so.

"Foxes? Why would Foxes do that?"

"Not Foxes, sire, foxes."

"Oh."

"I had thought that you would be more helpful than Trumpkin."

"Yes, yes, I would hope so." Rilian stood up awkwardly, stiff from sitting in nearly the same position for the entire night, and in the cold winter near the water as well. "I remember Trumpkin,"

"I…I would assume so," Stalis said with a shrug. "He's difficult to forget."

"He's lost more hearing since I saw him last."

"Unfortunately. Yet he's still around and still insists on doing everything. Maybe it's a dwarf thing."

"Or maybe it's just Trumpkin,"

Stalis chuckled in agreement as they walked to the castle proper.

"I remember Mien and Toire. What happened to them? I remember their names, and…not much else, but I…wondered what happened."

Stalis stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Best friends, they were."

"That I know."

"They…Mien was a brave fellow. I don't know what happened to him. He rode off to the north, to Harfang, in search of…" Stalis stopped then, dropped his hand from his beard and walked a little faster. "No one knows what happened to him. Never saw him again. I assumed he died on the moors…wild giants, you know, big ugly things that throw rocks all the time. Captain Orisi told me they had plenty of those out on the open moor and Mien was from Archenland, and giants are rare. I haven't seen him in years."

"What about Toire?"

"He moved to Beaversdam and has been working there as…"

"As what?"

Stalis coughed, but this time it wasn't one of hiding information so much as slight embarrassment. "A dance teacher. You know, all those children living in Beaversdam, someone suggested there should be some sort of dance class. Children love dancing, and Toire is…very good at dancing." Stalis sighed heavily, as if he couldn't imagine how someone who was once a part of the Narnian knighthood would ever _dream _of putting aside their sword and standing in front of small children and Animals teaching them how to dance.

"I remember that,"

"What?"

"Toire liked dancing. Everyone laughed at him for it."

"Still do," Stalis shrugged. "But he's a good teacher, and the king let him do it…said his talents would be wasted staying here when he could give so much to the children."

"My father was a good man, he would always do things like that,"

Stalis nodded again as they entered the gates into the main castle itself.

The castle was just as busy inside as the city surrounding it. Countless people moved through it at all times, shouting and talking and laughing, or roaring, clucking, mooing and otherwise going about their business. Today it was exceptionally crowded, for a lot of people were staying here to see the king before he died, and stayed for the funeral. Even with the funeral being the previous day, there were still enough people laughing and looking cheerful that Rilian had half a mind to make them stop laughing and being cheerful, it was disrespectful to the dead king…even though he knew it wasn't, and he knew his father would be annoyed if everyone sat around and mourned all day long instead of being true Narnians who were naturally happy people.

"Where am I meeting these…Sparrows?"

"Throne room, sire. That's where your father always met with people."

"You'll have to show me the way."

"You don't…"

"Remember? Not so much. I will once you show me, I'm sure."

So Stalis took the lead, which Rilian was thankful for because at least that made a clear path through the castle. Stalis was a big man and people got out of his way, and when they say him they didn't stop and stare. Rilian stayed close behind him, for the moment he strayed more than three feet behind the knight he was almost immediately surrounded by a throng of people all saying a myriad of things at once, from sympathies at his father's death to one small Monkey who asked him if he wanted a coconut. Those who didn't speak just stared, and he didn't know which was worse…the endless throng of people talking to him just to hear him talk to them, or the people who stared…or gaped…in awe, or shock, or both.

It was altogether overwhelming. In Underland the gnomes rarely spoke…it was only on the last day when everything was falling to pieces that he had seen the gnomes do more than just walk silently through the city. He hadn't known before that they really had a culture and lives thousands of miles below the surface and hadn't always been slaves to the witch. He still regretted not going there and seeing their culture…it was fascinating, and part of it was also somewhat of an apology on his part for judging the Bism gnomes wrong all those years.

The passages through the castle was familiar now, thank Aslan. At first he had been disoriented in Cair Paravel, but he had lived there for enough years in his life where even the witch's words and all he forgot made no difference. Before long he remembered every bit of the castle and walked alongside Stalis, trying his best to ignore the stares.

They reached the throne room and the family of Sparrows was inside. The male was on the table while the female and their three chicks was on the carpet. She had two chicks under her wing and the other was hopping around, looking at everything in the room, despite her protests not to wander too far.

"Finnifis," Stalis said, bowing to the male Sparrow. "Welcome to Cair Paravel."

Finnifis clicked his beak several times and then extended his wings slightly, a gesture of respect among Sparrows.

"Is Trumpkin going to be arriving?" Finnifis asked. "He said he would be coming."

Stalis glanced at Rilian and gave a little shake of his head, indicating he should come forward.

"Finnifis," Rilian said, walking forward and holding out his hands in a similar gesture. "Trumpkin is unable to attend, and honestly, I'm not sure you would rather him come here. His hearing has been failing enough of late where it is a problem, so I've been told."

The Sparrow's wings snapped shut, and the mother and chicks turned to stare. Even _here _they were doing it.

"Prince Rilian?"

"King," whispered Stalis, and both Rilian and Finnifis gave the old knight a look at that.

"King Rilian?" the Sparrow corrected himself.

"I'm not king yet. The coronation isn't for a few days still. And yes, I am here, and willing to listen to whatever you've come to Trumpkin for."

The chicks were chirping wildly, and the mother pulled them all under her wings to silence them.

"Yes. Well." Finnifis fluttered his wings and twitched his tail to settle himself. "It is a surprise, I must say. There were few among the people of Narnia who still believed you alive, so forgive our surprise. The Owls, if I must say, though, they always believed. I like to consider myself friend enough with the Owls to be included in that party, and I never lost faith."

"And you have my gratitude for that, good Sparrow."

Stalis sat down in the place usually reserved for honored guests and indicated that Rilian should sit in the king's throne. That had always been his father's place, and he was reluctant to do so, but there seemed to be no other option. He sat at the end of the chair, and rested his arm for a moment on the armrest before jerking it back abruptly, as if expecting invisible ropes to bind his wrist the moment he set it there. He shook his head, dismissing the thought as preposterous, and nodded at the Sparrow instead.

The Sparrow's tale was long and harrowing, involving all sorts of battles with foxes and several times where he was nearly eaten along with his children, and was embellished by all sorts of tangents and details as befitted the natural way of Sparrows. They were chattery birds, and this one was no exception. By the time he had finished, there were numerous other Animals outside the throne room waiting to see Trumpkin and now all ablaze with whispering since they were going to see the mysterious lost prince instead. By the time Rilian had sorted out the Sparrows' problem (moving the nest to another part of Lantern Waste that wasn't infested with foxes, as even though they had built their nest before the foxes arrived, that area of the Waste was _always _home to Foxes or foxes or both), there were enough other people now waiting for advice.

It was ridiculous. Had there always been this many people? Yes, he remembered. There had, he just never had to help them this much, as his father did most of the helping and didn't often ask for Rilian's opinions saying that there were a bit _too _freethinking.

It just didn't seem right that there should be this many people after the funeral already asking for advice. He wanted to tell all of Narnia to stop coming here, stop asking, and mourn…but asking an entire country to stop was foolish, and time moved on even if one didn't want it to.

Trumpkin arrived later in the day, and Rilian assumed then that he would take over the proceedings. Instead, all Trumpkin did was look at the queue of people and nod approvingly, saying he was glad that Narnia was still moving despite the major events that just took place. He didn't do anything _else, _just nod at Rilian, as if the fact that Rilian had returned meant he didn't have to act as king anymore. Rilian knew it was right, but still couldn't help feeling a little resentment at the old dwarf. Rilian had been here only a day, what did he know? Certainly not enough to give these people adequate answers.

The people seemed to think so, though most of what Rilian said was stating the obvious...sell your wares somewhere there's a demand for it, find a healer because they generally know what's wrong, don't buy from a Leopard, don't live near the homes of the stupid beasts because of course they're not going to know the common courtesy that you do. However it was soon obvious that at least a quarter if not more of these people had come because they found out the lost prince had returned and wanted to see.

Rilian was a patient person, or at least he liked to think he was. But by the end of the day there was very little patience left. He was exhausted, having slept very little in the past two days. By the time the sun began to set, he had been in this room nearly all day with only a few breaks for lunch and dinner. And the line of people seemed never ending, and by this point it was all what he thought of as stupid requests, such as 'can I eat this lemon even though it didn't grow near where I live?' and of _course _you can eat the cursed lemon it's just a _lemon._

The Peacock that had asked the question was taken aback by the prince's sudden outburst and by the fact that he had started pacing the room and was ordering everyone to get _out _because it was late and whatever they needed could wait until _tomorrow _if it waited for this long at all.

"Eh? What was that for?" Trumpkin demanded once the room cleared. "Just a Peacock."

"Trumpkin, do you honestly believe that lemons that are grown near Archenland are _any _different from lemons grown here?"

"Never tried any…what did you say? Lemons from Archenland?"

"Near Archenland."

"Eh, they're all lemons,"

"_Exactly_. I understand that these people have concerns, but I can't be answering every single question they have, especially ones like _that._" He finished, sitting back down and running his fingers through his hair in frustration. The throne room didn't have any windows except for those stained-glass ones, but they didn't even show the outside, just depicted High King Peter standing with his sword raised in front of a cowering wolf with the inscription 'Sir Peter Wolfs-Bane' below it on a banner. There were too many people here, and there wasn't enough room here for all of them, and Rilian was finding it hard to breathe after staying in the same room all day while people kept waving their arms around and chattering and sometimes yelling at each other or stepping on things.

"Apologies," Stalis said, rising and bowing. "I hadn't expected so many people to be here today, but such is the way it has always been."

"I know. I can't expect the world to stop now, right?"

Trumpkin and Stalis both nodded. The few people that remained in the room immediately began babbling their apologies all at once, which was just as bad as the inquiries had been a moment ago.

"Oh do be quiet," said a Panther, finally, leaping onto the table and swishing her tail back and forth. "We all have problems but I'm sure they can wait. The prince is right, we ought to go home and worry about it tomorrow." She turned her shining yellow eyes on the prince, blinking apologetically. "I am sure the prince is tired, yes?"

Rilian nodded.

"Then let us wait until tomorrow." She didn't wait for any other words from the other Animals, knowing they would listen simply because she was a Panther and like all Cats thought she was the most important thing in the room, next to the Prince and Trumpkin, of course. She climbed down from the table, watching until everyone left.

"Thank you," Rilian said to the Panther. "I'm afraid I don't remember you, if we've met before."

"Pia," The Panther replied. "And I don't believe we've met before either, so it's no trouble." She glared at the entrance where a few Chickens poked their heads into the room, and the Chickens quickly scattered. "I wouldn't eat them," she assured Stalis, who was raising an eyebrow at her. Her attention focused back on the prince, and she rested two paws on the throne and pushed herself up to get a better look at him. "They have been here all day, yes? I saw them this morning."

"Started this morning,"

"Well, they're gone now, and I'll keep them away for the night. You're probably tired. I was here yesterday when you returned…I am sure you have not had a moment's rest since then, yes?"

"Hardly,"

"When I first brought my cubs home," Pia explained. "My mother and her friend was there with my mate waiting for me. They wouldn't leave me alone from the moment I came back, wanting to see my cubs even though they were tired and needed their rest, poor young things. And _I _was tired, you know, two cubs at me every minute." Pia finished, her tail swishing as if that was all the explanation needed.

"Pia is right. You have my apologies, your majesty." Stalis said, rising. "It has been an extremely eventful two days for you. I am sure you are not…"

"Used to this much happening? No." Rilian stood as well, smiling gratefully at Pia. "A little rest would be nice. There hasn't been much time for sleeping."

"Do you…remember where your room was?"

"I believe so,"

"Here, I'll go with you." Pia said. "I have to leave, and it is along the way."

"Thank you, Pia."

"I'll come as well," Stalis added. "Trumpkin, will you…"

"I'm old, not helpless!" barked the dwarf. "I can get around on my own, _thank _you very much."

Stalis and Pia exchanged glances, but left the matter alone. They all left the throne room, walking down the corridors of the castle that were a lot emptier after the sun set. Rilian remembered more of this now, thankfully, even though it was dark and the lamps were lit. But it was candlelight, not the witch's electric lighting.

They reached Rilian's old room, which had been untouched for ten years. He was surprised at that, but Stalis assured him that his father did not want the people of Narnia to believe that his son was dead and didn't want to give them any reason to think that he did.

"I won't have anyone wake you," Stalis said, pushing the door open. "I will make sure you are able to sleep as late as you need."

"I'll stay," Pia replied, sitting down, her eyes shining in the dim hallway. "And make sure no one comes."

"I'm not your cub," Rilian said.

"You're our king," Pia said, folding her paws. Stalis nodded.

"Thank you." He opened the door and was surprised to see all the candles lit, the room well illuminated. "Good night, and thank you for all you've done."

Stalis bowed again. "Only doing my duty, your majesty." Pia didn't say anything at all, again because Cats never felt the need to waste words.

Rilian closed the door of the room and sat down on the bed. Everything was in the exact same position as it was ten years ago, and he supposed that ought to be strange but it wasn't. It felt like he hadn't left and like he was truly home again.

It had been a long two days, and he realized how tired he was when he nearly fell over the moment he sat on the bed. There had barely been a moment's rest from the moment they escaped the Underland until now. The few moments there were was filled with people and thoughts, too many thoughts lurking at the edge of his consciousness that he didn't feel like addressing. Maybe he would address them when he woke, maybe he just never would bother to think of them again. That seemed safe.

Rilian dressed for the night and fell asleep in his bed without even bothering to put the lights out.

* * *

The darkness was absolute. The electric lights of the castle didn't mean anything, nor did the few candles that existed in this place, it was still dark. It was still so far beneath the surface that it didn't feel like a world at all, just a tomb, a tomb filled with light and water and gnomes, and it was light, the light could go out easily because it didn't exist naturally in this place…and once it went out, there would be darkness that nothing could permeate, darkness that no one could possibly escape, and he would be alone in this room in this chair with no one here, and no one would ever come because it would be too dark to find anything and they would all die in a tomb so far below the surface that no one in the world knew it existed.

Rilian opened his eyes. It was still dark.

For a moment he didn't move. He didn't know where he was, just that it was dark and he was lying down. Had…had all the lights finally gone out? Every single light, both electric and fire, had it finally failed…

Then there was nothing but absolute darkness.

There was a sound from outside the door. How was that possible, how was someone here?

"Hello?" Rilian called, still not moving. "Who is there?"

No one answered. There was just another shuffle and a scrape, and then silence again.

He had imagined it again. He always did that, imagine things that weren't there out of the sheer desperation that someday he wouldn't be imagining and there would be something there, but not this time, he had just done it again and the witch would tell him that he was being foolish and oughtn't do that anymore.

Except the witch wasn't here and he had only imagined the sounds outside the door, and all the lights had gone out and he was completely alone in the darkness…buried alive, beneath thousands of miles of solid rock that nothing could ever penetrate.

Rilian flung himself to the floor and then stood up, looking frantically around the room in an effort to see something…anything…that could tell him where he was. But it was all dark. He reached out and walked forward, stopping when his hands met something solid. It was a desk of some sort, but that meant nothing. There were desks everywhere in the castle. What was this, then? A bed, that meant nothing either. It was just furniture, something too generic to tell him anything…

Another noise by the door.

"Who is there? Please, answer me!"

Nothing happened. No one said anything.

But he knew where the direction of the door was. Blindly, he ran forward until his hands met the door. He had to get out of here before the Underland started falling to pieces, he had to get out now, right now, right _now!_

He found the doorknob and frantically twisted it, but it refused to open. No! It was locked! It couldn't be locked! But it was, the door wasn't opening it wasn't moving it wasn't doing anything then it was locked! He banged on the door, pounding it hard but it still didn't move. It was locked and there was no way to get it open and there was no one on the other side of the door and that way was completely barred!

He staggered back from the door and started pacing. The door was locked. There were other exits. There had to be. He found the wall and felt along it, but couldn't concentrate on anything on the wall, it all felt the same…things that didn't do anything, things that didn't move, things that did move and fall to the floor with a crash, things that were just there and were things and were just _things _and that was it. He could barely breathe because there were so many things and he didn't know what any of those things were, only that they were here in the darkness and the way was locked and he couldn't get out and there were too many _things _preventing him from doing so.

He felt something that felt familiar. Calm down. Calm down and see what it is.

It was a sword. He knew that. That was safe. Could he break down the door with it? Yes, yes, eventually the door would have to break and he could get away from the darkness and the things and wouldn't be trapped here anymore. He drew the sword and held it out, whirling around madly, heart racing. The things weren't moving at least but any second they could be, for the witch's magic was everywhere, her eyes were everywhere, she knew everything…she probably already knew he was here and the lights went out…

No. No she didn't or she would have come already, and if she wasn't here it meant she was in Harfang and if she was _there _then she was thousands of miles away and would stay there and wouldn't know that all the lights went out and the kingdom was dark and failing and the door was _locked_. He would die here in this tomb and no one would be here to know, and by the time she got back it would be too late…

He swung the sword in a wide arc and felt it hit one of the things, and the thing fell to the floor with a clatter. That was one thing gone at least, but he still had to get rid of the other things because there were too many of them…there, there was another…and another…one by one he would get rid of the things…

But that didn't do anything. Destroying the things wouldn't unlock the door or bring light into this dark place, it only served to…to…

Another swing, and this time the sword connected with something harder and whatever it was shattered, and immediately the room felt cooler and a thousand shattered things glittered on the floor, reflecting light, was there light, where was the light?

The door opened and then there was light, light from the corridor outside and the people standing in the doorway…there were two of them…

_Two of them. There were always two of the witch's guards there, outside the door, though they never spoke and always obeyed her orders…_

"One step closer, foul Earthmen, and I'll cleave your heads from your shoulders!"

But the people weren't the witch's slaves, they were just…a Panther, fur raised on her back, claws extended and teeth bared, and…no, there were originally two people but now there were about five, and three were holding swords. The others hung back near the opened door…why didn't it open before?

Because it was a door handle, and in the dark castle there were doorknobs, and you can't turn a door handle.

"Your majesty?" a bewildered voice said, and he saw an older knight, distinctly a knight who bore no resemblance to the varied gnomes of Underland, standing next to the Panther.

Rilian still didn't lower his sword. It could be an illusion, created by the witch…she was a master at that.

"Your majesty, please, put the sword down."

I won't, for you are merely an illusion put into my mind by the witch's terrible magic, saying what she wishes to say, and I won't obey her orders any longer.

"Please, sire, we're not going to hurt you."

No, you will just keep me as your prisoner.

"Put the sword down and step away from the window, there's glass all over the floor."

He turned around and saw that one of the things had been a window, and now it was shattered, a thousand glittering pieces on the floor reflecting the light from the corridor outside and the lamps that the guards were holding, and the light from…from…

Outside there were a thousand glittering stars that mirrored the shattered glass, and the moon cast an odd light on the broken pieces and he couldn't tell if the light was an illusion too, or if it was actually the moon and stars which was too fantastic a concept, what was false, what was real…

He threw the sword down onto the floor amidst the broken things and glass and ran out the door, and didn't stop running until he left the castle and was out on the shore, still running across the cold sand until he stumbled over a shell buried in the ground and fell.

The cold night air was a welcome relief from the room, the open air completely free of all the _things _that had been there, whatever those things were. And there were no people here, either, no gnomes masquerading as people from Narnia, or actual Narnians, or whatever they were. And here there was no Underland, not even the faintest hint of it, only the constant breeze off the ocean and the stars in the sky.

He could still name all the stars. There was Eldrin, first to shine when the sun went down. There was Ytria, Lamarra, Igrets, Diar, Plethen, Amirali…

There were so many names, and after awhile there was no more point in reciting them all. The stars knew their names, what did it matter to them that some mortal man a thousand miles away could stare into the sky and recite them all?

But it had been something to do, and he was much calmer now, though when he realized that he also realized that he was sitting on the beach outside the castle in the middle of the night, and held in the grip of a nightmare had destroyed his entire room and no doubt frightened the guards who had showed up who were in fact honest Narnians and not illusions. And that this was clearly in no way how a prince…no, a king now…was supposed to act in the presence of anyone.

His father was dead, and he was king now. Any day would be the coronation, and then it would be official.

It came into his mind then that, beyond a doubt, he wouldn't be able to be king.

Narnia needed a real king, someone who didn't destroy things just because there were nightmares…no, even more than that, a king that didn't have nightmares that involved being buried alive, or trapped again, or…or a king who was afraid to go to sleep for fear that he wouldn't be in control of his mind anymore the moment he closed his eyes. They needed a king that didn't have ten years of his life stolen by a mad witch, or enchantress, or snake or whatever that person had been, who lie dead now at the bottom of an equally dead kingdom.

Rilian looked at the sky again. Ytria, Tlaraila, Orfithi…maybe it did matter to the stars.

There was movement behind him, and he didn't feel like turning to see, figuring it would be the guards or someone coming to see what happened and then they would bother or stare or do other nonsense like that.

But then the movement changed, walking next to him and then finally in front, and the large outline of the Lion stood out against the light cast by the moon on the beach.

Rilian stood up instantly, only to kneel again, bowing his head.

The Lion walked over and stood before Rilian, and his breath was warm and sweet in the cold night. "My son," he said, and his voice was deep and rumbling and familiar, and even though Rilian had never heard him speak before, he knew in his heart, as in the heart of every Narnian, that he had known the Lion all his life.

"My lord," Rilian said.

"It is cold, and the hour is late. Why do you stay out here alone, instead of with your fellows in the castle?"

"Please, my lord, I cannot sleep. Being outside, it…I can think easier."

"I understand. But it is cold, and you shouldn't stay out here so long."

Rilian looked up, but Aslan wasn't scolding. The Lion was sitting in front of him now, and his great golden eyes were filled with compassion.

"Aslan, I…"

"You know you may always speak freely in front of me, my son."

And Rilian, never one good at voicing his thoughts, said the first thing that came to his mind. "I am sorry if I ever stopped believing in you."

The Lion's tail swished around, but it made no noise and did not disturb the sand. "It has already been forgiven." He replied.

"I am sorry if I…forgot."

And then Aslan stood, and lightly rested his chin on Rilian's head. "There is nothing to apologize for," he said simply. "You were braver than any other man would be. You believed when no one else would have. You lived when a lesser man would not have. There is nothing to forgive."

"But I…" Rilian stood. "I can't do this, Sir,"

"What is it that you believe you can't do?"

Rilian looked over his shoulder at Cair Paravel, the great castle that still had lights in its windows even though it was the middle of the night. Then he looked back out to sea. "I can't be a king of these people," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't rule a country I haven't seen in ten years. I don't know it anymore. I still have trouble remembering how the people here live. How can I help them if I can't even remember? How can I help anyone when I can't even sleep because I am…I know she is dead, but I am still afraid that I'll fall asleep and she'll have my mind again. I can't do that again. I can't remember what it was like to be free."

There was a long time when Aslan didn't speak, only sat facing the east where the wind blew from. "Much has befallen you, my son." He said presently. "And it was not right that it did."

"The witch…"

"There will be time to think of her later. Now is not the time." But he didn't say anything condemning about that, either.

"I don't know what to do, Aslan. I'm so sorry. I can't be king for these people."

"And that is why you will be," he continued. "It is because of that insistence that you will make a great and wise king. You have known what the people have never known, you have seen sights that even in their darkest thoughts they would never dream of. You have experienced what they never will, and have spoken with those from far beyond these lands, and such a thing will never happen again until the end of the world."

"That doesn't mean anything," Rilian said quietly.

"No, it means everything. It is because of this that you will make a wise and just king. You will not want what came to pass to happen again, would you?"

"No…"

"And so it won't, because you are wise enough to see that it doesn't. You have learned, and it is what you learned that proves that you are worthy of governing these people. They need a new king, Rilian. They need someone who can change the world."

He stared out at the sea, still unchanging. It was the only thing that hadn't changed in ten years.

"And you think I can do that,"

"No. I am certain that you can."

Rilian rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. "I can't even think straight anymore," he said with a sigh. "I can hardly tell what's real and what isn't. I'm so used to having it all…done for me."

"But you would never want to see that happen again."

"No."

"Then don't. Your thoughts are you own, and they will belong to you from now until the stars rain down from the heavens."

And it seemed the most real at the moment that Aslan said it, more true than before.

"Then I can…perhaps…"

"Yes. You can."

"But…" there was still too much to say and too much to think about. There were still ten lost years that he was still remembering, bits and pieces coming back slowly to him, just as slowly as his memories of Narnia from the years before. There was too much to consider, and it all seemed too much. "But there's too much. I can't handle it. I can't do this alone."

"You won't have to." Aslan sat down beside him then, close enough where he could feel the warmth of the Lion, blessedly comforting and true. "You have Narnia beside you. It may be hard to see now, but eventually you will see it better as everything becomes clearer. They will always be beside you. And I, too, will always be there. I always was."

And Rilian believed him when he said that, too.

"I am not saying that it will be easy," Aslan continued, his voice even softer now. "And I am not saying it will immediately be better, or easier to understand. No, that always takes time. But know this, my son, you are a king of Narnia and always will be. Nothing can change that, no matter what you may think now."

Rilian turned to look at Aslan, and the Lion's eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. And Rilian went to his knees again, bowing his head before Aslan. And Aslan leaned over and gave him a warm, furry Lion's kiss, the sort that Rilian knew he would never forget as long as he lived.

"You are not alone," Aslan rumbled, low and comforting.

And so Rilian believed him.


	32. Epilogue

_Sarasael,_

_So I suppose I am some sort of coward, if it took me thirty years to write this. But it took me thirty years to get my mind together enough to be able to write this, and I am hoping you can forgive that. I don't know why I am even writing this…you've been dead for a long time now, and no matter what ghosts still whisper through the corridors after dark, they're only memories and I can't address them any more than I can address a witch I knew years ago, a dead witch that I killed myself._

_I suppose I thought returning to Narnia would be the easiest thing in the world. You told me once it wouldn't, but I didn't believe you…I didn't believe anything you told me, and it is still difficult for me to say even now that you were right._

_It was not easy to be king of a world that I barely knew anymore, especially when the ghosts of Underland would not leave me alone. I suppose you would be in some way satisfied if you knew that…the ghosts still existed long after your kingdom fell. There were days I was able to live, but there were also days I couldn't tell what was real from what wasn't, days I couldn't tell if the Narnia that I saw was real or if it was just another thing that I imagined to pass the time against your judgment. It took me years to get past that, years before I could finally sleep at night and not dream of Underland. Years to realize that my mind belonged to me and would never be at the mercy of anyone else…it was harder than I thought to get rid of ten years of enchantment, even though I was thousands of miles away from it. It was difficult to see Lady Sal again when I finally did, when you had made such an effort to make me forget her, and difficult for her when she had waited so long for me to return and I didn't even remember her when I did. She eventually forgave me for that, which was more than I deserved. We were eventually married, because as it was, she knew far more about Narnia than I did and it was something that I needed._

_It was difficult when Nirisath visited, when she came from her home in the south to see the coronation. It was hard when she was there, because it made me doubt myself…I killed a snake, that day in Underland. I killed a witch. I killed my captor, I killed an enchantress, I killed someone who years ago I called a lover, a friend. And I suppose it was that I regretted most of all, the fact that I did that and never had a chance to tell you anything I thought of long after you died._

_I am writing it now, not that it will matter. This is, I again suppose, the only way I can tell you all I wanted to say, now when I'm sure you would believe me. I vaguely remember trying before, to tell you, but it was years ago and neither of us would have believed a single thing the other said no matter how much we swore it was the truth._

_I will say first that I am not sorry, and I am not asking your forgiveness because there is nothing to forgive. That last day in Underland…I do not regret what I did that day. I have thought of it countless times, dreamt about it, but there was nothing else I could have done that day and nothing else I would have wanted to do. I suppose perhaps if…if we had been different, if the situation had been different, perhaps I could have let you live and perhaps you would have let me go. But I do not believe at the time that it could have happened, so do not expect me to say that I am sorry for that day._

_I want to say, though, that I am sorry for…for what I suppose was the real last day, even more years ago than that, when you came to me in the castle. I was only seventeen, and so were you, and neither of us knew what we were supposed to do. I was no exception. That, I do regret…when Nirisath's house burned down and you disappeared. I expected never to see you again after that. I also expected that it meant everything would be over…my parents would be happy again, Cair Paravel would be settled again, and no matter what I felt at the time, it was better for the world for you to have gone. That is where I was wrong…I should have gone after you that day, I should have explained to you why it all happened and why I said what I said. But I didn't, and I never had the chance to, and perhaps that is one of the reasons everything happened the way it did. That was my fault, and I admit it, and I know it is too late for it to mean anything but I am sorry. But I was only being foolish…I believed that I knew everything and my parents were trying to ruin my life and happiness, which I am assuming most people believe at that age. My son did, too, when he was that age. _

_It was not your fault then. I admit that it was mine…I believed that because you were someone important to me, all the world would stand aside for us. I abandoned reason to that foolish ideal and didn't care about what happened to the world, or even what happened to you, in a way. I assumed everything would happen perfectly because I thought it would, and I made you believe that, too. Perhaps if I believed and saw otherwise, I could have taught you that, too, and this wouldn't have happened. So in a way this is my fault, just as it is my father's fault, or the fault of that Otter who spoke out against you years ago. I can't pinpoint anything to one person. I am sorry, though, that I didn't do enough to stop it when it was happening. I should have told my father more about what that Otter did, and maybe he could have stopped it, and maybe then you would still be alive and working as a healer somewhere in Narnia. She is gone now…Millie and all those who stood by her, they vanished shortly after all that happened and no one ever saw them again. I don't believe I ever told you that…how people in Narnia aren't like that, how that was an accident and something that happens so rarely that often it isn't even worth mentioning. I should have told you that when we met again, and perhaps then things may have been different._

_My father believed at the time that you would make a poor queen, and at the time I knew you would, and I think that you did as well. I didn't tell you that, though, at least not the way I intended. But I saw the way Harfang was, the one time I went, two years after you died. You ran them well. Perhaps you would have made a fair queen, had things turned out differently; but they did not, and it raises too many 'ifs' that I do not care to think of, and there is no sense in doing so either. It won't bring knowledge or truth to either of us._

_There was a time when I really did care about you, where I can say perhaps that I did love you. But that too was years ago, and it was a foolish young idea for both of us. I wish we could have spoken of what really happened that day, and after that day, for both of us. If we could have spoken rationally, I think we would have been able to solve a lot. But neither of us were rational, and that…the blame can't be put on one person alone, but both of us, until both of us kept ignoring the truth of what happened to the point where you sat in front of the fire every night and told me Narnia never existed and I believed you._

_I suppose I should have also maybe found a place for you, despite everything that happened. I hadn't thought how much you lost when you lost contact with your world. I was too young then to understand it, I couldn't comprehend what it was like to lose everything you ever knew in the course of one night. I suppose that is also why you did what you did, to show me what it was like. I suppose that is why you tried to force me to forget Narnia, because you forgot your land, too. And then I suppose it spiraled too far out of control where even you forgot your original reason for why you did anything and were so determined to follow what you had started to the end, even though you were no longer sure what you started._

_I do not forgive you for that, either, Sara. You took away my free will, you took away everything that ever belonged to me for your own selfish reasons. I can't forgive you for that, and I am sure you wouldn't expect me to._

_But I tell you, though, that I understand why you did what you did. I am sorry for the person I was, when I was seventeen, and I am hoping that you accept that apology at least, though I am not sorry for anything else that I did. I am hoping that you will understand, and I think that you would, and wouldn't ask for my forgiveness at all._

_I killed a snake that day, I know. I killed an enchantress, I killed someone who through countless years became a twisted and terrible version of someone I once knew and cared about. It took me years to accept this, but I do now, and I don't regret doing it. I don't think you would expect me to do anything else, either. _

_I don't know what happened to you since then…if perhaps you found your way home after death, and I am sure I will never know. I haven't been to Underland since, though plenty of other people have...you would find it slightly amusing, the fact that now people go down there and sail on the Sunless Sea during the summer, for it is cool down there and almost a vacation for the people here in Narnia. Your great kingdom reduced to a tourist spot…I can't do anything to stop it, but even I feel that is slightly wrong. I can't think that the ruin of a place where ten years of my life lay buried, perhaps even more than that, is now a place for people to picnic when the weather gets too warm. I can't think of the place where you died, the tomb that you were buried in for eternity, as a place to sail by and sing songs in the dark and cool air. But there is nothing I can do about it, as strange as I think it is. I hope you'll forgive them for making light of a place where such terrible things have happened, but such is the way the people of Narnia have always been._

_It is cold now; the day is late and I am tired. The sun has set and the breeze is chilly, blowing through my window as the stars come out in the sky. I still remember the names of all the stars._

_There. I've said all I've wanted to say, and I can't think of anything else. It's been thirty years with nothing but ghosts that still haunted me long after the sun has set, and I'm hoping after thirty years the ghosts will accept all I've said and at least understand, if not forgive, because I don't believe there is anything to forgive._

_Go home, Sarasael._

Rilian folded the note four times and tossed it into the fire, where the flames licked the sides of the paper and grew inward, burning the note into nothing but ashes. There was a brief sputter of flame, then, and a whisper, but the words were too low to be able to make out. And the next moment it passed, the fire burning down to embers, leaving nothing but the faint crackle of the dying flame and the flicker of the shadows on the wall.


End file.
